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RECOLLECTIONS 

OF THE 

LIFE OF LORD BYRON, 

FROM THE YEAR 

1808 TO THE END OF 1814; 

EXHIBITIVa 

HIS EARLY CHARACTER AND OPINIONS, DETAILING THE PROGRESS OF HIS 

LITERARY CAREER, AND INCLUDING VARIOUS UNPUBLISHED 

PASSAGES OF HIS WORKS. 

Eaktn from Authentic Bocuments, 

IN THE POS8SS8ION OF TH£ AUTUOB. 
BT THE LATE 

B.'Cy DALLAS, Esq. 



TO WHICH IS PREFIXED 

a.K ACCOWKT OF THE CIRCUMSTANCES LEASIN& TO THE SVPPREBSION 

OF LORD BTBOn's CORRESFOSDENCE WITH THE AUTHOR, 

AND HIS LETTERS TO HIB KOTUER, LATELT 

ANKOVNCEB FOR SUBLIOATION. 



PHIliADELPHIA : 

A. SMALL AND H. C. CAREY & I. LEA. 

1825. 



b3^A 



Gtft 
W. L. Bboemaker 

I t 'oe 



Printed by Wiimam Brows. 



CONTENTS. 



Preliminary Statement of the circumstances leading to the 
suppression of Lord Byron's Correspondence with the Author, 
and of his Letters to his Mother — p. ix to Ixxix. , 

Note as to the birth place of Lord Byron — Ixxxi, 

Chap. L p. 1 — 1 1. 

Family connexions of Lord Byron — Juvenile Poems—" Hours 
of Idleness" — Letter of Mr. Dallas — agreeable communication 
from his Lordship — second Letter of 21st July, 1808, and reply 
to it — first interview with Lord Byron — pleasing impressions ex- 
cited by the Poem strengthened by personal acquaintance—" en- 
grafted" religious opinions — visit on his 21st birth-day — 'his 
indignation at Lord Carlisle's behaviour estranges him from his 
family connexions — attack upon the Edinburgh Reviewers. 

Chap. IL p. 12—31. 

The Satire " British Bards and Scotch Reviewers"— originally 
printed in the country-^considerably altered in preparing for pub-^ 
lication — Letters of 24th Jan. 1809 — variation of the title sug- 
gested — notices of Southey — Little — Lord Carlisle — progress 
through the press — publication offered to Longman and Co. and 
declined— publiiihed by Cawthorn— ^ideas suggested on reading 
the Poem — extracts from the original manuscript, with the 
printed variations — Lord Byron's sensibility respecting his pe''- 
sonal defect — Jcffery — Letter of the 6th of February, lPv:)9««= 



jy CONTENTS. 

arrangement with the publisher of the Satire — Letter of the 7lh 

of February, 1809 — further alieraiions suggested — intercourse 
with Lord Byron during the publication — 'additions — argument 
originally intended to precede the Satire. 

Chap. IIL p, 32—45. 

The death of Lord Falkland suggests some new passages in 
the Satire — Lord Byron naturally benevolent — effect of his feel- 
ings upon his countenance — publication of the Satire — takes his 
seat in the House of Lords — neglect of his relative Lord Carlisle — 
reception by the Lord Chancellor — repulsive coolness of Lord 
Byron — his reasons — leaves town for Newstead Abbey — Mr. Dal- 
las's Letter of the 1 7th of April, 1 809 — public notices of the Satire 
— additions and alterations in the Second Edition — his m isanthropic 
feelings — he leaves England — presents Mr. Dallas with his Let- 
ters to his Mother. ^ 

Chap. IV. p. 46—58. 

Letters to his Mother — influence of his literary reputation 
upon his mind — original intention of travelling — arrangements 
in his first will — rejects a proposal for the sale of Newstead Ab- 
bey — state of his affairs on quitting England — his travelling suite — 
route — Library of the convent at Mafra — adventure at Seville — 
Mr. Hobhouse — his propensity to noting. Entertainment at 
Yanina — Ali Pacha — palaces at Telapeen — introduction to Ali — 
his attention to Lord Byron — voyage from Previsa to Patras — 
hospitality of a Suliote — return to Yanina — grand children of Ali 
Pacha— ^swims across the Hellespont — determines to pass the 
summer of 1810 in the Morea — return of Mr. Hobhouse to Eng- 
land—advantages derived by Lord Byron from his travels — satis- 
faction at being at home, his mind reverting to its natural activity — 
intentions to be put in practice on his return to England— deter- 
mina^on to appear no more as an author — the sale of Newstead 



CONTENTS. y 

again proposed to him — his objections— determination in the 
event of the sale being unavoidable — his return to England on the 
2d of July, 1811. 

Chap. V. p. 59—82. 

Announcement to Mr. Dallas of his return — Blackett, a poetical 
shoemaker — his patrons — death — his vi^orks published by Mr. 
Pratt — general observations on genius — Lord Byron's remarks 
on Blackett and others— his arrival and interview with Mr. Dallas 
—intention respecting future publications — " Hints from Horace," 
an unpublished Poem, with extracts — the MS. of" Childe Harold" 
presented to Mr. Dallas — Letter of the 16th July— Lord Byron's 
unfavourable opinion of the Poem — is persuaded to allow the pub- 
lication of it, and consents to revise the manuscript — Cawthorn — 
Miller — arrangement with Murray— introductory Stanzas and 
improvements — illness of Lord Byron's mother — departure for 
Newstead — protest against sceptical stanzas in Childe Harold. 

Chap. VL p. 83—98. 

Lord Byron writes to Mr. Dallas from Newstead Abbey — death 
of his mother and his friends — despondency — Letter of condo- 
lence—he disclaims acuteness of feeling — estimate of his deceased 
friends — direct attack upon the Christian religion — declines meta- 
physical argument — outline of correspondence upon the subject^ 
the discussion discouraged by Lord Byron — probability of a change 
in his opinions — Kirke White, and Chatterton — Townsend — • 
Lord Byron's moral feelings— ideas relative to his peculiar situa- 
tion with society — his own opinion of impropriety — another death 
— Letter from Mr. Dallas, of the 27th of October. 

Chap. VIL p. 99— to 121. 

Reluctance of Lord Byron to attach his name to the publication 
of " Childe Harold" — intention to add to another edition — dis- 



VI 



CONTENTS. 



claims identity of" charactei- with the '' Childe"— anxiety for the 
appearance of" Hints from Horace" — Letter of Mr. Dullas, with 
the first proof — Mr. Giflbrd — encouragement to complete the 
Poem — subjects pointed out — sceptical stanzas — reasons for ab- 
staining from the avowal of improper sentiments and for attaching 
Lord Byron's name to the Poem — Waller Wright — Kirke White 
—reasons that Mr. Gifford should not see the MS. — passages 
expressive of a disbelief in futurity — alteration — note to stanzas 
of the second Canto — Convention at Cintra — Letter of 3d of 
October, 1811 — omissions — the objectionable stanzas — Letter 
relative to an objectionable note on Spain and Portugal — note- 
observations on detached passages of the Poem. 

Chap. VHL p. 122—142. 

Retrospect — progress of the publication— depression of Lord 
Byron — Newstead Abbey — notice of the family — Capt. George 
Anson Byron— ^involvement of Lord Byron's affairs — intention to 
reside in the Archipelago — abstemiousness — disturbances in Not- 
tinghamshire — frame-breaking bill — Lord Holland's debate on 
the bill— favourable impression of Lord Byron's first speech — the 
speech. 

Chap. IX. p. 143—156. 

Anxiety for the success of the Poem — a review of " Childe 
Harold" precedes the publication through delay of the printer of 
it — appearance of the Poem — terms suggested by the bookseller 
for the copyright — edition sold in three days — Newstead Abbey 
— Letter on Lord Byron's affairs — Letters to Mr. Dallas's family 
respecting Lord Byron and the Poem — Lord Byron universally 
complimented — arrangement for a second edition — reluctance of 
Mr. Dallas to accept the copyright — a copy sent by Lord Byron 
to Mrs. Dallas — another to his Lordship's sister — his note written 
in his sister's copy — literary reputation at this period, (March, 



CONTENTS. 



VH 



1812)— introduction to the Prince Regent — his intention to at- 
tend a levee — disappointment — change in his feelings and opi- 
nions — copy of Childe Harold, ordered by the Princess Charlotte 
to be magnificently bound — Letter from Dr. Clarke, 

Chap. X. p. 157—171. 

Evil consequences of the adulation with which Lord Byron was 
assailed— mingles with society — consequent suppression of the 
5th edition of the " Satire" and " Hints from Horace" — edition 
destroyed — dissatisfaction of the publisher — Lord Byron speaks 
on the Catholic Question — his fame — change in his manners and 
opinions in consequence — an equivocal Messenger — Newstead 
Abbey offered for sale by auction — sold by private contract for 
140,000/. — contract voided, and ^0,000/. forfeited — Mr. Dallas's 
feeling respecting Newstead— -notices of the Abbey, by Hor. 
Walpole, and in the Edinburgh Review — Lord Byron's neglect of 
Mr. Dallas->-retires to the country — iwtercourse recommenced 
upon his return to town in the beginning of 1813— Lord Byron's 
proposition to write a novel jointly with Mr. Dallas — the com- 
mencement. 

Chap. XL 172—194. 

The Giaour — Lord Byron's wish that Mr. Dallas should print 
all his works after his death — Bride of Abydos— -offer of the pub- 
lisher — American Poem and the Edinburgh Review — Mr. Murray 
— the Corsair— copyright of the Poem presented to Mr. Dallas — 
dedicated to Mr. Moore — " Stanzas on a Lady Weeping" — 
virulence of the press — Lord Byron annoyed by the accusation of 
receiving money for his writings — Letter to the Morning Post- 
effect of the Lettei^^rapid sale of th^ Corsair — Lara — Newstead 
Abbey — observations on Lara — engraved portraits of Lord Byron 
— posthumous volume — Lord Byron's feelings toward Mr. Dal- 
las — resolution to leave England upon the separation from Lady 



Viii CONTENTS. 

Byron — his wish that Mr. Dallas's son should accompany him — 
final departure from England in 1816 — tendency of his subsequent 
writings — estimate of his poetical and personal character— con- 
cluding remarks. 

Chap. XII. p. 195—222. 

Death of Mr. Dallas — intrusts the conclusion of the Recollec- 
tions and its publication to his son — remarks on the general 
character of Lord Byron, as depicted in the preceding Chapters — 
publication of Medwin's " Conversations"— observations on the 
character and tendency of that work, and upon the conduct of 
Lord Byron as therein portrayed — Letter of Mr. Dallas to Lord 
Byron of the 10th November, 1819 — the original and acquired 
character of Lord Byron — his feelings upon religion — conse- 
quences of adulation upon his mind and conduct — regret of Mr. 
Dallas that from these consequences he had been instrumental 
in bringing Childe Harold's Pilgrimage before the public — 'con- 
cluding passage from the original MS. of Mr. Dallas. 



PRELIMINARY STATEMENT. 



Circumstances have rendered it necessary to account 
to the public for the appearance of the following Recol- 
lections in their present form. A work had been an- 
nounced as preparing for publication, entitled " Private 
Correspondence of Lord Byron, including his Letters 
to his Mother, written from Portugal, Spain, Greece, 
and other parts of the Mediterranean, in the years 1809, 
1810, and 1811, connected by Memorandums and Ob- 
servations, forming a Memoir of his Life, from the year 
1808 to 1814. By R. C. Dallas, Esq." Much expec- 
tation had been raised by this announcement, and con- 
siderable interest had been excited in the public mind. 
The Vice-Chancellor, however, was applied to by 
Messrs. Hobhouse and Hanson, for an injunction to re- 
strain the intended publication, which was summarily 
granted as a matter of form; since which the Lord-Chan- 
cellor has been pleased to confirm the Vice-Chancellor's 
injunction, but the public have never been furnished 
with any report of his decision, nor been further inform- 
ed upon the subject. 

B 



X PKELIMINARY STATEMENT.' 

Under these circumstances, the public expectation 
has been disappointed, and the interest which was cre- 
ated has been left unsatisfied; while, on the other hand, 
the intended publication has been exposed to the charge 
of raising an expectation, and exciting an interest, which 
it was improper and unlawful to gratify. The nature 
of the letters, and memoirs themselves, has thus been 
left to the vague surmises which might be formed by 
every thoughtless mind, pampered by the constant food 
of personality and scandal, which the press has lately 
afforded in such abundance, and excited by the deprav- 
ed character of many of those works which Lord Byron, 
in his fallen state, has himself administered to their mor- 
bid appetite. 

Thus situated, no one can deny that it became Mr. 
Dallas's bounden duty, both to defend himself from the 
charge which might thus be brought against him, and 
to lay before the public such an account of the work he 
had announced as might fairly explain its nature, and 
shelter it from tlie suspicious of impropriety, which the 
very name of Lord Byron seems so generally to excite. 
The latter of these objects has produced the publication 
of the present work; to which the reader is confidently 
referred, that he may form his opinion of the nature of 
that which has been sujjpre^sed. To obtain the foi iner 
object, it can only be necessary to publish a sinipie mr- 
rative of the facts connected with the ronuaupti of .*he 
■wcrk, with its intended pubhcaiJo% and with its sup- 



PUELIMINAUY STATEMENT. 



XI 



pression. Such a narrative it was in the contemplation 
of the author of the following Recollections to have 
written, but it did not please G:)d to prolong his life for 
the execution of his purpose. He has been taken from 
this world, and the task he had proposed has devolved 
upon the Editor of the present volume; who, having 
been principally concerned, during his father's absence 
from England, in the transactions which will be record- 
ed, is enabled to state them from his own information. 

Mr. Dallas's knowledge of Lord Byron, and the cir- 
cumstances which gave rise to his intention of writing 
any thing concerning him, are fully detailed in the fol- 
lowing work. A few words, however, will convey such 
a recapitulation of them as will be necessary to enable 
the reader to understand this narrative. Having been 
in habits of intimacy, and in frequent correspondence 
with Lord Byron, from the year 1808 to the end of 
1814, which correspondence about that period ceased, 
Mr. Dallas had many times heard him read portions of 
a book in which his Lordship inserted his opinion of the 
persons with whom he mixed. This book, Lord Byron 
said, he intended for publication after his death; and, 
from this idea, Mr. Dallas, at a subsequent period, adopt- 
ed that of writing a faithful delineation of Lord Byron's 
character, such as he had known him, and of leaving it 
for publication after the death of both;. and, calculating 
upon the human probability of Lord Byron's surviving 
himself, be meant the two posthumous works should 



j^l'l PRELIMINAUY STATEMJENT. 

thus appear simultaneously, Mr. Dallas's work was 
completed in the year 1819; and, in November of that 
year, he wrote to inform Lord Byron of his intended 
purpose.* 

The event proved the fallacy of human probability — 
Mr. Dallas lived, at seventy, to see the death of Lord 
Byron, at thirty-seven. The idea of digesting his work 
into a different form, and of publishing it with the greater 
part of the letters which it contained, came into his mind 
even before the report of Lord Byron's death was fully 
confirmed. This, together with a circumstance more 
important to the object of thi& narrative, may be gather- 
ed from the contents of a letter which he wrote to the 
present Lord Byron from France, on the 18lh of May, 
1824. The following extract from which will show, 
that Mr. Dallas's first thought respecting these letters, 
was to consult with the most proper person, his nearest 
male relation and successor. 

" I hear that you have been presented with a frigate by Lord 
Melville — I congratulate you on this, too ; but I own I suspect my- 
self to be more sorry than pleased at it, particularly if you are lo- 
go on a station of three years abroad. There are reports respcct- 

* The body of the letter which he wrote upon this occasion, 
will be found in the last chapter of this work. Although Lord 
Byron never replied to this letter, its writer had assurance that 
he received it — for, some time afterwards, a mutual friend who 
had been with Lord Byron,' told him that his Lordship had men- 
tioned the receiving of it, and referred to part of its contents. 



PUELIMINARY STATEMENT. 



XIU 



ing your cousin, the truth of which would render your absence 
very awkward-— pray state this to Mr. Wilmot, and consult hinn 
upon it. I hope, if you do go abroad, that you will run over in 
one of the Havre packets, to spend a few days with me previously. 
I cannot look forward to seeing you again in this world, and I 
should like to have some conversation with you, not only respect- 
ing the situation in which you stand as to th6 title, but also re- 
specting Lord Byron himself. I have many letters from him, and 
from your fatl^er and mother, which are extremely interesting. 
Do not fail to see me, George, if but for a couple of days. The 
Southampton packets are passing Portsmouth three times a week, 
and if you could not stay longer, I would not press you to do other- 
wise than return by the packet you came in. 

The next packet, however, brought Mr. Dallas the 
confirmation of the report of Lord Byron's death, and 
he was not long in deciding upon the intention which'he 
afterwards put in execution. The work, as it existed 
at that time, had been written with a view to publication 
at a period when, after the common age of man, Lord 
Byron should have quitted this world — that is, thirty or 
forty years hence. The progress of the baneful in- 
fluence which certain persons, calling themselves his 
friends, obtained over Lord Byron's mind, when his 
genius first began to attract attention to him, was in that 
work, more distinctly traced. Many circumstances were 
mentioned in it which might give pain to some now liv- 
ing, who could not be expected to be living then, or who, 
if they were then alive, would probably experience dif- 
ferent feelings at that time to those with which they 



XIV 



PRELIMINAHV STATEMENT. 



would recall the circtimstanc.es now. In the form it 
then possessed, therefore, Mr. Dallas would not think of 
publishing it ; but he determined to arrange the corres- 
pondence in such a manner as should present an inter- 
esting picture of Lord Byron's mind, and connecting the 
letters by memorandums and observations of his own, 
render the whole a faithful ifiemoir of bis life during the 
period to which the correspondence referred. 

Having decided upon this, the materials were arranged 
accordingly ; and the Editor can, of his own knowledge, 
assert, that many parts of the original manuscript were 
omitted, in tenderness for the feelings of both the very 
persons composing the parti>erslrip which has since so 
violently opposed the publication of the Correspondence, 
arrtl that none of the parts then omitted have been al- 
lowed to appear in the present work. When this al- 
teration was completed he came to London, and entered 
into an agreement with Mr. Charles Knight, of Pall 
Mall East, for the disposal of the copyright.* The book 
was Immediately put to press, and the usual announce- 
ments of it were inserted in the newspapers. 

During the short stay which Mr. Dallas made in Lon- 
don, he endeavoured fruitlessly to see the present Lord 

* The introduction of Mr. Colburn's name, in the publication 
of the book, was in con^quencc of a subsequent arrangement be- 
tween Mr. Knight and that gentleman, in which the author was 
not concerned. 



PRELIMINARY STATEMENT. j^y 

Byron, who arrived in town, and sought him at his hotel 
the very day that he had left it, and tlierefore no suffi- 
cient communication took place at that lime respecting 
the work which was about to appear. According to 
circumstances, which afterwards occurred, this was un- 
fortunate, for had Lord Byron then seen Mr. Dallas, he 
would have been able at once to give his opinion when 
applied to by the executors ; instead of which, when 
an application was made to him to join in opposing the 
intended publication, being ignorant of its nature, he 
was of course unable to express his approbation of the 
work so fully as he afterwards did. 

The necessary arrangements being made, Mr. Dallas 
returned to France, for the purpose of taking steps for 
the simultaneous publication of a French translation, 
in Paris. Of this,., further notice will be taken here- 
after, and it is not necessary, for the present, to refer to 
it. In passing through Southampton, Mr. Dallas paid a 
visit to his niece, the sister of the present Lord Bvron, 
who was .in correspondence with Mrs. Leigh, the half 
sister of the late Lord Byron. Through her he sent a 
message to Mrs. Leigh, informing her of the nature of 
the Correspondence then in the press. This is worthy 
of remark, as it is one of the many assurances that the 
nature of the intended pubiirali'Mi was such as could not 
but be saiisfactory to the real Iriends of Lord Byron, 
which have»been afforded to the paries who have pre- 
vented the Correspondence from bemg laid beibre the 



3^yj FRELIMINARY STATEMENT. 

British public. This message was sent on the 20th ol 
June, 1824, and it was faithfully forwarded to Mrs. 
Leigh. 

On the 23d of June, however, Mr. Hobhouse ad- 
dressed the following letter to Mr Dallas : 

" 6, jilbani/f London^ June 23. 
« Dear Sir, 

" I see by the newspapers, and I have heard from other quarters, 
that it is your intention to publish a volume of memoirs, inter- 
spersed with letters and other documents relative to Lord Byron. 
I cannot believe this to be the case, as from what I had the plea- 
sure of knowing of you, I thought that you would never think of 
taking such a step without consulting, or at least giving warning 
to the family and more immediate friends of Lord Byron. As to 
the publication of Lord Byron's private letters, I am cfertain, that 
for the present, at least, and without a previous inspec^on by his 
family, no man of honour and feeling can for a moment entertain 
such an idea — and I take the liberty of letting you know, that Mrs. 
Leigh, his Lordship's sister, would consider such a measure as 
quite unpardonable. 

" An intimacy of twenty years with his Lordship, may perhaps 
justify me in saying, that 1 am sure he would deprecate, had he 
any means of interfering, the exposure of his private writings, un- 
less after very mature consultation with those who have the great- 
est interest in his fame and character, I mean his family and rela- 
tions. 

"I trust you will be so kind as to excuse me for my anxiety on 
this point, and for requesting you would have the goodness to 
Hiake an early reply to this communication. 

" Yours, very faith|'ully, 

"John C. Hobhouse.'' 



PRELIMINARY STATEMENT. 



xvu 

It is particularly to be remarked, that this letter is 
written without professing to be by any other authority 
whatever than that which the writer's "intimacy" with 
the hite Lord Byron might give him. He " takes the 
hberty of letting Mr. Dallas know that Mrs. Leigh, his 
Lordship's sister, would consider" the measure which 
he knew that gentleman had taken " to be quite unpar- 
donable;" he has the modesty to acknowledge that this 
is a liberty; but he takes a very much greater liberty 
without any similar acknowledgment; he asserts, that 
" no man of honour and feeling can for a moment enter- 
tain such an idea," as that which he writes to say he has 
seen by the newspapers, and has hoard from other quar- 
ters, Mr. Dallas has not only entertained but acted upon. 
But the principal point to be considered is, that Mr. 
Hobhouse writes, perhaps, in the character of Lord By- 
ron's "more immediate friend;" but that he does not 
hint at having-any authority, and least of all, the autho- 
rity of an Executor; and this for the strongest possible 
reason, that he was not then aware that he had been ap- 
pointed Lord Byron's executor, which fact he himself 
acknowledged upon a subsequent occasion. Certainly, 
on receiving this letter Mr. Dallas had no idea of its 
being written by nn executor, nor is it to be concealed, 
that its receipt excited feelings of considerable irritation 
in his mind. 

.Very shortly after writing this letter, Mr. Hobhouse 
found himself associated with Mr. John Hanson, as ex- 

c 



T^yJii PRELIMINARY STATEMENT. 

ecutor to Lord Byron's will; and not receiving any let- 
ter from Mr. Dallas, he, on the 30th June, called upon 
Mr. Knight, the publisher, taking with him a gentleman 
whom he introduced as Mr. Williams. This gentleman 
was to be witness to the conversation that might take 
place; though Mr. Hobhouse prefaced his object by ex- 
pressions of a friendly tendency. Mr. Knight not hav- 
ing any reason to expect a visit of the nature which this 
proved to be, was not prepared with any one to stand in 
a similar situation on his part; but the very moment that 
the conference was ended he took notes of what had 
passed. Mr. Hobhouse stated, that he had written to 
Mr. Dallas, to complain of the indelicacy of publishing 
Lord Byron's letters, before the interment of his re- 
mains; that Mrs. Leigh had not been consulted; and 
that Mr. Dallas had not the concurrence of Lord By- 
ron's family in the intended publication; — that he called 
on Mr. Knight officially, as Executor, to say this, though 
when he wrote to Mr. Dallas he did not know that 
Lord Byron had appointed him one of his executors. 
Mr. Hobhouse thought Mr. Dallas had a right to publish 
Lord Byron's letters to himself; but he doubted his 
right to publish those of Lord Byron to his mother. 
Mr. Knight said that he believed Mr. Dallas would be 
able to show that Lord Byron had given those letters to 
him. Mr. Hobhouse replied that if Mr. D.allas failed 
in that, he should move for an injunction. Mr. Knight 
said, that the question of delicacy, as to the time of pub- 



PRELIMINARY STATEMENT. Xix 

lication, must be settled with Mr. Dallas;— that the pub- 
lisher could only look to that question in a commercial 
view; but that having read the work carefully, he could 
distinctly state, that the family and executors need feel 
no apprehensions as to its tendency, as the work was 
calculated to elevate Lord Byron's moral and intellectual 
character. Mr. Hobhouse observed, that if individuals 
were not spoken of with bitterness, and opinions very 
freely expressed in these letters, they were not like Lord 
Byron's letters in general. He himself had a heap of 
Lord Byron's letters, but he could never think of pub- 
lishing them. The conference ended by Mr. Knight 
stating, that a friend of Mr. Dallas, a gentleman of high 
respectability, superintended the work through the press; 
that Mr. Hobhouse's application should be mentioned 
to him;— but that he, Mr. Knight, was not then at li> 
berty to mention that gentleman's name. 

Mr. Knight lost no time in informing the present 
editor of the conversation he had had with Mr. Hob- 
house ; and as the publisher had referred to some one 
intrusted by Mr, Dallas with the charge of conducting 
the progress of the work through the press, but had 
hesitated mentioning his name, not having authority ta 
do so, the editor immediately addressed the following 
letter to Mr. Hobhouse, without however being aware 
of that which he had written to Mr. Dallas : — 



XX 



PRELIMINARY STATEMENT 



" JVooburn Vicurngt,, near liracoiifi/icld, liucks, 3d July ■> 1824, 
« Sru, 

"JVIk. Kniciit has informed me of the conversation he has 
had with you iipon the sul)jcci of Lord Byron's coiresponcicnce. 

" I might have expected lliat as you arc not unacquainted witii 
my father, lus character would have liecn a sufficient guarantee of 
the proper nature of any work wliich sho-uld appear before the 
public under his direction ; and I might naturally have hoped 
that it would have guarded him from the suspicion of impropriety 
or indelicacy. In the present case, both his general character as 
a christian and a gentleman, and liis particular connexion with 
the family of Lord Byron, should have prevented the alarm which 
appears to have been excited in your mind, for I will not suppose 
the relations of Lord Byron and my father to have participated in 
it; — an alarm which I must consider as unjustifiable as it is un- 
grounded. 

" Since these causes have not had their proper effect in your 
mind, it becomes necessary for me, as my father's representative 
and agent in the whole of this business, distinctly to state, that the 
forthcoming correspondence of the late Lord Byron contains 
nothing which one gentleman ought not to write, nor another 
gentleman to publish. The work will speedily speak for itself, 
and will show that my father's ol^ject has been to place the original 
character of Lord Byron's mind in its true light, to show the 
much of good that was in it ; and the work leaves him when the 
good became obscured in the much of evil that I fear afterwards 
predominated. There is no man on earth, Sir, who loved Lord 
Byron more truly, or was more jealous for his lair fame, than my 
father, as long as there was a possibility of his fame being fair ; 
and though that possibility ceased, the affection remained, and 
will be evinced by the forthcoming endeavour to show that there 
existed in Lord Byron that which good men might have loved. 

<* As to any fear for the character of others who may be men- 



PRELIMINARY STATEMENT. Xxi 

tioned in the work, my father, Sir, is incapable of publishing 
personalities; and Lord Byron, at the time he corresponded with 
my iulherj was, I believe, incapable of writini; wliat ought not to 
be published If, at any subsequent period, in corresponding 
with others, he should have degraded himself to do so, I trust 
that his correspondents will be wise enough to abstain from- 
making ])ublic what ought never to have been written. 

" The letters which Lord Byron wrote to his mother were given 
by him unreservedly to niy father, in a manner which seemed to 
have reference to their future publication; but which certainly 
rendered them my father's property, to dispose of in what way he 
might think fit.* Should you think it necessary to resort to any 
measures to obtain further proof of this, it will only tend to the 
more public establishing of the- authenticity of these letters, and 
can only be considered as a matter of dispute of property, as Lord 
Byron's best friends cannot but wish them published. 

" Being charged by my father with the* entire arrangement of 
this publication, you may have occasion to write to me; it may 
therefore be right to inform you that I have long since left the 
profession in which I was engaged when we met at Cadiz ; and, 
having taken orders, 1 have the ministerial charge of this parish ; 
to which letters may be directed as thi» is dated, 
" I remain, 

" Your obedient Servant, 

" Alrx. R. C. Dallas." 

Although Mr. Dallas had not thought proper to reply 
to Mr. Hobhouse's unauthorised communication, he 
did not leave it altogether unregarded ; but immediately 
upon receiving it, he wrote to Mrs. Leigh the following 
letter : — 



\xn 



PRELIMINARY STATEMENT. 



" See. Jdrcsse, June 30^/;, ISJf 
" Madam, 

" I have just received a letter, of which I enclose you a copy. 
I see by the direction, through what channel it has been forwarded 
to me. As the letter is signed by the son of a gentleman, I 
would answer it, could. I do it in such a manner as to be of service 
to the mind of the writer, but having no hope of that, I shall con- 
tent myself with practising the humility of putting up with it for 
the present. And here I should conclude my letter to you, did I 
not, my dear madam, remember you not only as the sister of 
Lord Byron, but as the cousin of the present Lord Byron, and of 
Julia Heath. But in doing this, I cannot relinquish my feelings. 
I must profess that I do not believe that you authorised such a 
letter. That you should have felt an anxiety upon the occasion, 
I think very natural, and I should have been glad to have pre- 
vented it. It was not my fault that it was not prevented, for 
(premising, however, that I neither saw nor do see any obliga- 
tion to submit my conduct to the guidance of any relation of 
Lord B.'s) I took some pains to let my intention be known to his 
family, a\id even to communicate the nature of the publication 
I had in view. On the feport of Lord B.'s death, I wrote to 
George, and mentioned these papers ; before I despatched my 
letter, his death was confirmed. I urged my wish to see George 
— I had no answer — I arrived in London, wrote to him and re- 
quested to see him — I inquired also if you were in town — the 
servant brought me word that both you and Lord B. were out of 
town, but that any letter should be forwarded — I was two days at 
the New Hummums, and I received no answer. I do not state 
this as being hurt at it — George had much to occupy him — but I 
soon after saw Julia Heath, who mentioned your anxiety. This 
channel of such a communication was natural, and certainly the 
next best to a direct one from yourself, which I trust would have re- 



PRELIMINARY STATEMENT. Xxiii 

fleeted no dishonour on you — but I met the communication by my 
niece kindly, and sent you a message through her which she 
thought would please you, and certainly I did not mean to dis- 
please you by it. By that communication I must still abide, re- 
peating only, that if, in the book I am about to publish, there is a 
sentence which should give you uneasiness, I should be totally 
at a loss to find it out myself. I will go further, my dear madam, 
and inform you, that Lord Byron was perfectly well acquainted 
with the existence of my MS., and with my intention of publish- 
ing it, or rather of having it published when it pleased God to call 
him from this life — but I little suspected that I should myself 
see the publication of it. I own, too, that the MS., as intended 
for posthumous publication, docs contain some things that would 
give you pain, and nuich that would make others blush — but, as I 
told Julia Heath, I wished as much as possible to avoid giving 
pain, even to those that deserved it, and I curtailed my MS. 
nearl)^^ half. If I restore any portion of'what I have crossed out, 
shall I not be justified by the insolence of the letter I have re- 
ceived from a pretended friend of Lord Byron, and who seems to 
be ignorant that a twenty years' companionship may exist with- 
out a spark of friendship ? I do not wonder at his agitation ; it is 
for himself that he is agitated, not for Lord Byron. But I will 
not waste your time on this subject. I will conclude, by assuring 
you, that I feel that Lord B. will stand in my volume in the 
amiable point of view that he ought and would have stood always 
but for his Jrienda . 

" It was my purpose to order a copy of the volume to be sent 
to you. As I trust you will do me the honour by a few lines, to 
let me know that it was not your intention to have me insulted, I 
will hope still to have that pleasure. 
" I am, dear madam, 

" Yours, faithfully, 

"R.C.Dallas." 



Xxiv PREUMINAUY STATEMENT. 

It has been attempted to throw all the blame, in the 
whole of the subsequent transactions, upon this letter. 
Perhaps it might have been more desirable that it should 
not have been written immediately upon the receipt of 
one which was felt as an insult, however it might have 
been intended; and Mr. Dallas did not scruple after- 
wards to express his regret, not only for any expression 
in this letter which might appear to be intemperate or 
hasty, but for the irritated impulse which could produce 
it, and he has authorised the editor to state this publicly; 
in doing which, however, he cannot refrain from pro- 
testing against the misrepresentation to which the whole 
letter has been subjected. It appears that it has been 
distorted into the conveyance of a threat that the.writer 
intended to insert in the proposed publication, what 
would give pain to Mrs. Leigh, and make Lord Byron's 
friends blush. No fair-judging person, after reading 
the whole of the letter, can conscientiously say that 
he rises from it with such an idea in his mind. In a 
subsequent letter to the editor, Mr. Dallas strongly points 
this out. He says, " It must be a resolution to misun- 
derstand the letter, to say that I intended to restore 
what I had erased. ' If (conditional) in the book I am 
about to publish, there is a sentence which can give 
you uneasiness, I should be totally at a loss to find it 
myself Can any doubt exist after reading this .'' 'As 
INTENDED for publication.' — If I restore any portion.' 
I have read the letter again, and do not think it affords 



PUELIMINARY STATEMENT. 



XXV 



the ground for blame thrown upon me, after having 
thoupjht well of it." 

But besides that no such intention can fairly be 
gathered from the letter, it must not be forf^jotten to be 
observed, that in stating that the manuscript, as intended 
for posthumous publication, does contain some things 
which would give Lord Byron's sister pain, the writer 
only meant to suppose that a sister must feel pain on 
being told of the errors of a brother. It was not in his 
mind to convey an idea that Mrs. Leigh would feel pain 
on her own account from any thing which was disclosed 
in the original manuscript. The Editor has read that 
manuscript, which is now in his possession, with great 
care, more than once, and has been unable to discover 
one word that could have that tendency. Ilow is it, 
then, that upon the ground which this letter is said to 
afford, that the correspondence "contained observations 
upon, or affecting persons now. living, and the publica- 
tion of which is likely to occasion considerable pain to 
such persons;"* such an alarm was excited in the mind 
of Mrs. Leigh. 

That a very great alarm was excited, which ultimately 
led to the legal proceedings, is most certain. The letter 
was sent to the present Lord Byron as proof of the 
offensiveness of the proposed publication, and an imrae- 

* Quoted from the Bill in Chancery, filed by Messrs. Hobhous» 
and Hanson. 



Xxviii PKELIMINARY STATEMENT. 

and that certainly he did not mean to displease her by 
it." He refers to that communication, and repeats (in 
writing what before had been only verbal) that "'if in 
the book he was about to publish, there was a sentence 
which should give her uneasiness, he should be totally 
at a loss to find it out himself." The object of the mes- 
sage was, to assure Mrs. Leigh of the harmless, not to 
say pleasing, nature of the intended publication; and yet, 
in rel'erring to the message, and acknowledging the re- 
ceipt of a letter which contained a repetition of it in 
writing, she only observes that it "confirmed the report 
of Mr. Dallas's intention to publish his manuscnptp 
and that, in consequence, she requested Mr. Hobhouse 
to let him know that she should think his conduct would 
be unpardonable. It is also somewhat strange, that 
having been so applied to by Lord Byron's sister, Mr. 
Hobhouse, who at that time had no title to authority for 
making such a communication in his own name, should 
not have stated the title which such an application from 
a near relation seemed to give him, and have written to 
Mr. Dallas as* by direction of Mrs. Leigh, instead of 
merely " taking the liberty of letting him know" what 
Mrs. Leigh thought about the matter. 

But there is a still more extraordinary circumstance 
in this letter. Mr. Hobhouse's conversation with Mr. 
Knight, which took place before Mr. Williams who came 
to act as witness, has been verified upon oath by Mr„ 



PRELIMINARY STATEMENT. XXix 

Knight, from whose affidavit, registered in the Court 
of Chancery, the following is an extract: — 

" On the 30th of June last, said plaintiff, John Cam 
Hobhouse, told defendant, Charles Knight, that he, said 
plaintiff, John Cam Hobhouse, had written such letter 
to said defendant, Robert Charles Dallas, and at the same 
time, told defendant, Charles Knight, that he, said plain- 
tiff, John Cam Hobhouse, did not, at the time when he 
wrote said letter, know that he, said last-named plaintiff, 
had been appointed an executor of the said Lord 
Byron." 

ft 

Thus it appears, that at the time of writing the letter 
in question, Mr. Hobhouse was ignorant that he was the 
le^al representative of Lord Byron; but, from Mrs. 
Leigh's letter, it also appears that she was not igiidrcmt of 
that circumstance, since it was the sptcial motive which 
induced her to " select Mr. Hobhouse," as the proper per- 
son to communicate with Mr. Dallas in prefeience to 
" the present Lord Byron, a mutual relative." As, there- 
fore, it is impossible to suppose that the lady in question 
could state what was not true; we can only wonder that, 
being privy to the contents of her brother's will, and know- 
ing whom he had chosen to be his executors, she should 
never have informed them of the selection he had made. 

The appearance of the Correspondence was promised 
to the public on the 12th of July, 1824; and it had 



XXX 



}'UELIM1NAUY STATEMENT. 



nearly gone through the press when, on the 7th of July, 
Messrs. Ilobhouse and Hanson, as tlie legal representa- 
tives of the late Lord Byron, filed a Bill in Chancery, 
and, in consequence, • obtained, on the same day, from 
the Vice-Chancellor, an injunction to restrain the pub- 
lication. This Bill was founded upon the joint affidavit 
of the executors, the matter of which, divested of its 
technicalities, was as follows. — 

The deponents swear, that in the years 1809, 1810, 
and part of 1811, Lord Byron was travelling in various 
countries, from whence he wrote letters to his. mother, 
Mrs. Catherine Gordon Byron, " that such letters were 
principally of a private and confidential nature, and none 
of them were intended to be published." That Mrs. C. 
G. Byron died in the year 181 1, intestate, and that Lord 
Byron being properly constituted her legal personal re-, 
presentative, possessed himself of these letters, and be- 
came absolutely and wholly entitled to them as his sole 
property. *rhe deponents then swear, " that they have 
been informed, and verily believe, that the said Lord 
Byron was in the habits of correspondence with Robert 
Charles Dallas," and that, in the course of such corres- 
pondence, Lord Byron wrote letters, " many of which 
were, as the said deponents believe, of a private and 
confidential nature" — '' and that the said Lord Byron 
being about again to leave this country, deposited in the 
hands of the said Robert Charles Dallas for safe cus- 
tody, all, and every, or a great many of the said letters. 



PRELIMINARY STATEMENT. XXXi 

which he had written and sent to his mother/'* And 
.that, at the time of Lord Byron's death, such letters 
were in the custody of the said R. C. Dallas, together 
with those which his Lordship had written to him. 
Lord Byron's change of name to Noel Byron, and his 
death, are then sworn to; and also his will, and the prov- 
ing of it, by which the deponents became his Lordship's 
legal representatives. 

Messrs. Hobhouse and Hanson then swear, " that 
soon after the death of the said Lord Byron was known 
in England, the said R. C. Dallas, as the said deponents 
verily believe, formed a scheme, or plan, to print and 
publish the same, and with a view to such printing and 
publishing, pretended to be the absolute owner of all the 
said letters," and disposed of" such pretended copyright" 
for a considerable sum of money. Then the advertise- 
ment of the Correspondence is sworn to, and the belief 
of the deponents to the identity of the letters advertised 
for publication, with those before referred to in the affi- 
davit. The affidavit goes on to affirm, " that the said 
Robert Charles Dallas never apprised him the said de- 
ponent, John Cam Hobhouse, of his intention to print 
and publish the said letters, or any of them." And Mr. 
Hobhouse swears that he wrote the letter of the 23d of 

* The exact words of the affidavit are quoted when they relate 
10 important points, which will be afterwards referred to in this 
narrative, that the reader may judge fairly for himself. 



XXxii PRELIMINARY STATEMENT. 

June to Mr. Dallas; and he swears too that he got no 
answer; but he swears that, on the 30th of June, he 
" called on the said Charles Knight, and warned him 
not to proceed with the printing and publication of the 
said letters, and informed him that if he persevered in 
his intention," the two deponents, Messrs. Hobhouse 
and Hanson, " would, most probably, take legal means 
to restrain him." ' 

The affidavit next states, that the deponents verily 
believe that Lord Byron's letters to his mother " were 
•wholly written and composed by him, and that he did 
not deliver the same to the said R. C. Dallas, for the 
purpose of publication, but to be disposed of as he, the 
said Lord Byron, might direct." And that he never 
meant nor intended that they should be published — that 
they were, as the deponents verily believe, at the time of 
Lord Byron's death, his own sole and absolute property; 
and that they now belong to the said deponents, as his 
legal personal representatives. The deponents go on to 
swear that the letters written by Lord Byron to Mr. 
Dallas were, as they verily believe, " also wholly written 
and composed by the said Lord Byron; and that such 
letters are not, and never were, the sole and absolute 
property of the said R. C. Dallas; but that the said Lord 
Byron, in his life time had, and the said deponents, as 
his legal representatives, now have, at least, a partial 
and qualified property in such letters," which has never 
been relinquished or abandoned; and that Lord Byron 



PRELIMINARY STATEMENT. XXXlH 

never intended or gave permission to Mr. Dallas to pub- 
lish them or any part of them. 

Then comes the following clause, " And the said de- 
ponents verily believe, that the said several letters were 
written in the course of private and confidential corresr 
pondence, and the said deponents believe that many of 
them contain observations upon, or affecting persons 
now living; and that the publication of them is likely to 
occasion considerable pain to such persons." 

The Affidavit closes with the affirmation that the 
publication in question was intended to be made for the 
profit and advantage of the defendants; and " that such 
publication was, as the deponents conceived and believ- 
ed, a breach of private confidence^ and a violation of 
the rights of property," which, as the representatives of 
Lord Byron, they had in the letters. 

Previous to stating the reply to this Affidavit, it may 
not be improper to make some observations upon the 
nature of its contents. It contains matter of opinion; 
but no matter of fact relating to the point in question. 
There is a great deal of belief expressed, but not one 
reasonable ground upon which the belief is founded. 

It is really a matter of surprise that any one should 
so implicitly believe that to be fact, which, upon the face 
of the business, he can only suppose to be so. Mr. Hob- 
house never saw or read the letters written by Lord 
Byron to his mother, yet he swears (and in this case 
without the mention, that he verily believes; but as of 

E 



Xxxiv PRELIMINARY STATEMENT. 

his own knowledge,) " that such letters were principally 
of a private and confidential nature." Any one might 
suppose that a man writing to his mother may write 
confidentially; but few men would allow that supposi- 
tion so much weight in their minds, as to enable them 
to swear that it was so. Mr. Hobhouse was travelling 
with Lord Byron during the time when many of these 
letters were written, and probably he supposes that his 
Lordship may have often mentioned him to his mother. 
This seems an equally natural supposition with the other; 
and if it should have entered into Mr. Hobhouse's head, 
he would, by analogy, be equally ready to swear, not that 
he supposed he was often mentioned, but that he really 
was so. . And yet, after reading Lord Byron's letters to 
his mother, it would never be gathered from them that 
his Lordship had any companion at all in his travels, as 
he always writes in the first per5>on singular; except, in- 
deed, that Mr. Hobhouse's nanie is mentioned in an 
enumeration of his suite; and, upon parting with him. 
Lord Byron expresses his satisfaction at being alone. 

To the assertion respecting these unseen letters, Mr. 
Hobhouse adds, that " none of them were intended to 
be published.^' If it is meant to say, that they were not 
written with the intention of being published, as the 
sentence may seem to imply, nobody will deny the fact. 
If they had been, they would not have contained the 
natural and unrestrained development of character which 
makes them valuable to the public now. But their not 



PRELIMINARY STATEMENT. XXXV 

having been written with the intention of publication, 
by no means precludes the possibihty of Lord Byron 
himself subsequently intending them to be published. 
Mr. Dallas has it in his Lordship's own hand-writing, 
that he did subsequently intend part of them, at least, 
to be published; because, having kept no other journal, 
he meant to cut up these letters into notes for the first 
and second Cantos of Cbikle Harold. This was, how- 
ever, previous to his having given them to Mr. Dallas. 

The same observation as that which has been made 
upon Mr. Hobhonse's swearing tbdit Lord Byron's letters 
to his mother were confidential, will equally apply to his 
swearing that he believes his Lordship's letters to Mr. 
Dallas were so also. But when ho swears " that Lord 
Byron, being about again to leave this country, deposited 
the letters to his mother in the hands of R. C. Dallas 
for safe custody," — when he states this upon oath, not 
as verily believing it — not as supposing it — but as know- 
ing that it was so— without stating any ground what- 
ever for his knowledge of a circumstance in which he 
had been in no way concerned, it is hardly possible to 
conjecture how extensive Mr Hobhouse's interpretation 
of an oath may become. Upon this subject I cannot 
.forbear inserting an extract of a letter written by Mr. 
Dallas to his publisher from Paris, immediately that he 
was informed of the issuing of the injunction, and be- 
fore he was fully made acquainted with the whole cir- 
cumstances. He says, " so far from thinking it wrong 



X&Xvi PRELIMINARY STATEMENT. 

to publish such a correspondence, I feel that it belongs 
in a manner to the public; and that I have no right to 
withhold it. If the Vice-Chancellor has been made 
acquainted with the spirit of the work, there is an end 
to the injunction; for as to the property in the letters 
from Lord Byron to his mother the affidavit sets that at 
rest;* and in the volume itself it may be seen that Mr 
Hobhouse made a false assertion (I hope it was not upon 
oath,) in his application for the injunction, when he says 
that Lord Byron deposited them with me for safe custody 
only, when his Lordship was going abroad. The text 
shows, that I have long considered them as mine, before 
Lord Byron thought of leaving England; and that he 
also considered them so. There was no memorandum 
made of the circumstance; it was a gift made personally, 
and as had happened in the case of Childe Harold and 
of the Corsair. What can be more conclusive than the 
words with which he accompanied the gift ? The ad- 
ditional words I allude to, conveyed an idea of some 
dissatisfaction with others, and a feeling that my attach- 
ment and judgment were more to be relied upon. I 
trust that the circumstances have been made clear to the 
Vice-Chancellor; and that all the disgraceful insinuation 
of the application, that I am capable of publishing let- 

* He alludes to an affidavit relating principally to this point, 
which he sent in this h;ticr the monnent he heard of the Injunc- 
tion ; but which, not being sufficieirtSy full upon other points, was 
not made use of in the legal proceedings. 



PRELIMINARY STATEMENT. XXXVil 

ters which ought not to be made public, has been wiped 
away. I shall be glad to find this carried even so far 
as to show, that, although I did not strictly or morally 
hold myself bound to submit my intentions of publishing 
to the direction of Lord Byron's family, I was attentive 
to their feelings, and that it was not my fault that a 
communication did not take place upon the subject. As 
to any delicacy towards the executors, I declare to you, 
on my honour, that till I saw it afterwards in a public 
newspaper, I did not know that the executors of Lord 
Byron were those confidential friends, the Mr. H.'s, 
though one of them (Mr. Hobhouse) had thought proper 
to give me counsel in very improper language." " Again, 
why should Lord Byron deposit these letters with me 
for safe custody, when these two confidential friends 
were at hand, and other confidential friends, and his 
sister ? There is an absurdity on the face of the asser- 
tion." 

It is not intended here to answer Mr. Hobhouse's 
statements, which will be better met by the counter-affi- 
davits themselves, but merely to make some necessary 
observations; and, amongst them, it is impossible not to 
observe, with regret, that Messrs. Hobhouse and Han- 
son, in swearing that they proved Lord Byron's will in 
the proper Ecclesiastical Court, and became his Lord- 
ship's legal representatives, did not insert the date of the 
probate, or even the period when their appointment came 



XXXViii PRELIMINARY STATEMENT. 

to their knowledge.* Such an insertion might have pre- 
vented all obscurity in a subsequent part of the affidavit, 
where it is sworn, " that on the 23d June last, being 
soon after the deponents were informed of such inten- 
tion, (of publishing,) deponent, John Cam Hobhouse, 
wrote and sent a letter of that dale to R. C. Dallas, re- 
presenting to him the impropriety of publishing said let- 
ters." As the passage stands, it does not appear 
whether Mr. Hobhouse wrote as "the more immediate 
friend" of Lord Byron, or with the authority of an ex- 
ecutor. The difference is somewhat material; and as 
the affidavit mentions that the letter was written soon af- 
ter the deponents (in the plural number) were informed 
of Mr. Dallas's intention, it certainly wants the infor- 
mation which the reader now possesses, but which the 
affidavit does not supply, to make it clear that he wrote 
merely as "the more immediate friend." 

But the said deponents " verily believe'" that Mr. Dal- 
las formed a scheme to print and publish the letters 
" soon after the death of Lord Byron was knoitm in Eng- 
land.'" What could possibly have been the grounds of 
a belief so firm, thattJie persons believing come forward 
to attest it by affidavit in a Court of Justice.^ The 

* It was understood that Lord Byron's will was not to be open- 
ed till his remains arrived in England ;-'-the vessel which bore 
those remains reache,d ijip Nore on the 1st July, seven days after 
the date of Mr. Hobhoase's letter to Mr, Dallas. 



PRELIMINARY STATEMENT. XXXix 

irravamen of the matter is, that the scheme was formed 
soon after Lord Byron's death was known, and not be- 
fore; and this Messrs. Hobhouse and Hanson swear they 
beUevc to be the case. A dozen persons of the highest 
respectabihty read the letters arranged for pubhcation, 
in the first intended memoir, years before Lord Byron's 
death; some of wliom state it upon oath, and all the 
others would have done so if it had been considered ne- 
cessary by the legal advisers. It is to be lamented that 
so much firm faith has been thrown away upon so slight 
a foundation; and it is to be hoped, that the persons 
who can believe so easily are not inconsistently difficult 
of belief, upon points which will hereafter more mate- 
rially concern themselves. 

When it was known that an injunction had been ob- 
tained, intelligence of it was forwarded to Mr. Dallas, at 
Paris, and his immediate presence was required in Lon- 
don. The following certificate, enclosed in a letter 
from a friend, was the reply received to this communi- 
cation: — 

" This is to certify that Robert Charles Dallas is now 
labouring under a very severe attack of inflammation of 
the chest, which was attended by fever and delirium; — 
that he is now under my professional care, and that his 
symptoms were of so dangerous a character as to render 
large bleeding necessary, even at his advanced age. He 



Xl PRELIMINARY STATEMENI 

is at present better, but certainly unable to undertake a 
journey. 

" Given under my hand at Paris, Rue du Mail, Hotel 
de Mars, this 11th day of July, 1824 

" David Barry, M.D." 

In consequence of this unfortunate ilhiess it became 
necessary to send out a commission from^the Court of 
Chancery, to receive Mr. Dallas's answer at Paris. This 
occasioned considerable expense, and a delay which was 
regretted at the time; but it afterwards appeared that 
the decision in the cai»se could not have been hastened 
even had no obstacle of this nature intervened. 

The Answer was founded upon several affidavits, of 
which the first was that of Mr. Dallas himself, wherein 
he " denies it to be true, that the letters of Lord Byron 
to his mother were principally of a private and confiden- 
tial nature; but, on the contrary, affirms that such letters 
were principally of a general nature; and for the most 
part consisted of accounts and descriptions of various 
places which the said Lord Byron visited, and scenes 
which he witnessed, and adventures which he encoun- 
tered, and remarkable persons whom he met with in the 
course of his travels, and observations upon the manners, 
customs, and curiosities of foreign countries and people; 
and although he admitted that in some of such letters 
matters were mentioned, or alluded to, of a private na- 
ture, yet he swears that such matters of a private nature 



PRELIMINARY STATEMENT. 3j|J 

were only occasionally and incidentally mentioned or al- 
luded to, and did not form the principal contents or sub- 
jects of the letters/' And he further says, that " to the 
best of his judgment and belief none of these letters are 
of a confidential or secret nature," or contain any mat- 
ters of such a nature. 

Mr. Dallas goes on to swear, that " being in habits of 
friendship and correspondence with Lord Byron, as Mr. 
Hobhouse had staled, in the course of that friendship 
his Lordship gave him, as free and absolute gifts, the 
copyrights of the first and second Cantos of Childe Ha- 
rold's Pilgrimage, and of the Corsair," which gifts were 
respectively tnade by word of month and delivery of the 
original manuscripts to him; and that -a considerable por- 
tion of the letters from Lord Byron to himself were 
written "" at the times when the poems were preparing 
for or in the course of publication," and that they " con- 
tained or related to divers alteralions, addjtions, and 
amendments which were from time to time made, or pro- 
posed to be made in the poems, or otherwise related to 
them," — and thc»t "other parts of these letters related 
to matters of general literature, morals, and politics, and 
other subjects of a general nature, and the individual 
opinions and feelings of Lord Byron;" and that "some 
very few parts of such letters related to other private 
matters, which were only occasional I) and incidentally 
mentioned or alluded to therein^ and did not form the 

F 



Xlii PRELIMINARY STATEMENT. 

principal contents or subjects of such letters, and were 
not in any respect of a confidential or secret nature." 

Mr. Dallas then states, in his affidavit, that Lord By- 
ron thought of leaving England in 1816, but that " in 
or about the month of April, 1812, he being in conver- 
sation* with Lord Byron, his Lordship promised to bring 
and give to him a letter which he had written to his 
mother on the matter which formed the subject of such 
conversation, and that some time afterwards, that is to 
say, in the iiionth of June, 1814, Lord Byron, in per- 
forjnance of such promise, brought, and gave, and deli- 
vered to him not only the letter so promised, but also all 
the rest of the letters which he, Lord Byron, had written 
to his mother, and at the same time he addressed to Mr. 
Dallas the following words: — • 

" Take them. — They are yours to do what you please 
with. Some day or other they will be curiosities." 

From this Mr. Dallas swears that he " believes that 
Lord Byron in so delivering these letters to him, and 
addressing him in this manner, did fully intend to give 
the same letters and every of them, and the copyright 
thereof, and all his. Lord Byron's, property, right, title, 
and interest therein to him, Mr. Dallas, for his own use 
and benefit, as a free and absolute gift, in the same man- 
ner as he had given the copyrights of the poems;" and 

* The sale of Newstead Abbey was the subject of these conver- 
sations. 



PRELIMINARY STATEMENT. Xliil 

further, " that at the time of this gift Lord Byron con- 
templated the probabihty of the letters being afterwards 
published by Mr. Dallas." 

The deponent distinctly denies that the letters were 
left with him for safe custody; and alleges that Lord 
Byron did not leave England until 1816, that is, two 
years after the gift of the letters. 

The affidavit further states, that for several years pre- 
vious to the death of Lord Byron the deponent was en- 
gaged in compiling and writing memoirs of his life and 
writings, and that in these memoirs were inserted and 
embodied many of the letters both to Mrs. C. G. Byron 
and to himself; and that he did so for the purpose of il- 
lustrating and giving authority to the memoirs, and of 
placing in a just and favourable point of view the con-^ 
duct, character, and opinions of Lord Byron, their in- 
sertion being essential to the illustrating and giving au- 
thority to the memoirs; and that for many years previous 
to the death of Lord Byron, he had formed the inten- 
tion and plan to publish these letters in the before-men- 
tioned memoirs; and that Lord Byron, so long ago as 
the year 1819, was aware of his intention and plan so 
to publish them. The letter to Lord Byron, inserted in 
the last chapter of the following Recollections, is there 
sworn to; with the addition, that his Lordship never ap- 
plied to, or requested Mr. Dallas to desist or abstain 
from publishing the memoirs, nor from inserting in them 
any of the letters in his possession 



3j|yj PRELIMINARY STATEMENT. 

The only other corroborative affidavit which the legal 
advisers thought necessary to make use of, was one 
made by Alexander Young Spearman, Esq., who states, 
that so long ago as the year 1822, he had read the man- 
uscript memoir in which was embodied the letters in 
question; and that, to the best of his judgment, there 
was nothing contained in the work or in the letters 
which could lower the character of Lord Byron, or 
which was of a confidential or secret nature; but, on 
the contrary, that from reading them, he had formed a 
higher and better opinion of the character and conduct 
of Lord Byron than he had previously entertained; and 
that the letters were, for the most part, upon subjects of 
general and public interest; and of such a nature, that 
their publication would be an advantage to the cause ot 
literature, and no breach of honour or confidence. 

From the substance of these affidavits, it may proba- 
bly strike the reader as singular, that Mr. Dallas himself 
should have said nothing concerning the approbation of 
the present Lord Byron; while the Editor swears direct- 
ly to his knowledge of, and concurrence in, the publi- 
cation. To account for this, and to prove how ready 
both the Author of the memoirs and the Editor were to 
make any reasonable arrangement by which the pledge 
to the public might be fulfilled, it will be necessary to 
state some circumstances which occurred previous to 
the filing of the Answer to the Bill in Chancery ; which, 
as has already been shown, was unavoidably delayed. 



PRELIMINARY STATEMENT. ^Ivii 

The present Lord and Lady Byron happened to be 
on a visit to the Editor at his house at Wooburn, to- 
wards the end of" July; and there they had an opportu- 
nity of reading the whole of the work as intended for 
publication, and which had so nearly gone through the 
press, that they read three-fourths of it in print. What- 
ever pain Lord Byron might feel on account of the early 
development of the seeds of vice in his predecessor and 
near relation, he felt immediately that the work was 
highly calculated to raise his Lordship's character from 
the depth into which it had subsequently fallen; and he 
unreservedly expressed his wish that the publication 
should proceed. A single passage in the narrative part, 
whicli was observed upon by Lord Byron, was omitted 
according to his desire. With these feelings he endea- 
voured, in the kindest manner, to clear away the obsta- 
cles which impeded its progress; and fearing lest his 
former reply to the sudden demand for his opinion upon 
the subject, as it had been conditional, might be con- 
strued into direct disapprobation, he expressed himself 
ready to state his concurrence in the publication. The 
following affidavit was accordingly drawn up, with the 
approbation of his own legal adviser: — 

" George Anson, Lord Byron, maketh oath, and 
saith, that he well knows the defendent, R. C. Dallas, 
who is the uncle of this deponent, and that he well 
knows that tbssaid R. C. Dallas was formerly in the 



Xlviii PRELIMINARY STATEMENT. 

habit of corresponding with the late George Gordon^ 
Lord B) ion, to whom the deponent is the nearest male 
relation and successor. And this deponent further saith, 
that having been informed that a certain work proposed 
to be published by the said R. C. Dallas, and to include 
certain letters written by the said George Gordon, Lord 
Byron, to him, and to Mrs. Catharine Gordon Byron, 
the mother of the said George Gordon, Lord Byron, this 
deponent declared his reluctance to such publication 
taking place until the said work should have been ex- 
amined by the relatives and friends of the said George 
Gordon, Lord Byron ; and that the said deponent now 
maketh oath and saith, that he has since read the said 
work, entitled " Private Correspondence, &.c. ;" afid the 
letters from the said George Gordon, Lord Byron, to 
his mother, and to the defendant, R. C. Dallas, includ- 
ed therein ; and this deponent further saith, that he does 
not now entertain any objection to the publication of 
the said work." 

This affidavit received the sanction of Lord Byron ; 
but it having been ascertained that the executors did 
not intend to make any use of the conditional opinion 
that his Lordship had expressed, it was not thought 
necessary that he should swear it ; as from motives of 
delicacy it was wished if possible not to mix him up 
with a dispute in which he stood in close connexion with 
both sides. Nothing but the absolute necessity which 



PRELIMINARY STATEMENT. ^Jj^ 

now exists of making the public fully acquainted with 
all the circumstances connected with this strange pro- 
ceeding,. would induce the Editor to refer to him. As, 
however, his Lordship's conduct throughout the whole 
business has been not only manly and open, but also 
guided by an amiable desire of conciliation, the public . 
mention of these transactions can only be a testimony 
highly to his credit. 

In consequence of what had taken place, Lord Byron 
called on Mr. Hobhouse, and personally stated his own 
knowledge of tlie nature of the work, and his opinion 
respecting the propriety of its publication. He also 
stated, that he knew the editor was by no means averse 
to enter into any reasonable arrangement by which the 
difficulties in the minds of the executors might be over- 
come. It appears that the plea by which their opposi- . 
tion was defended, was, that other persons possessed let- 
ters of the late Lord Byron, which it would be highly 
improper to give to the public ; and that the executors 
felt it their duty to establish their right to prevent the 
publication of any letters. However, Mr. Hobhouse 
supposed that matters might be arranged if Mr. Dallas 
would consent to insert in the title-page of the work, 
" published by permission of the executors," of course 
submitting it first to the inspection of some person ap- 
proved of by them. 

Upon immediate consultation with the Editor, he de- 



1 PRELIMINARY STATEMENT. 

clined giving a promise that such words should be used 
until he had seen his legal advisers ; but he authorised 
Lord Byron to state that he perfectly concurred in the 
spirit of this proposed arrangement, and offered at once to 
submit the work to the inspection of a friend of Lord 
Byron's, well known to the executors, but with whom the 
Editor himself was totally unacquainted, and to abide by 
his opinion. This was mentioned within the same hour 
to Mr. H<.bhouse, who was satisfied with the person 
named, and promised to consult his colleague, Mr. Han- 
son, upon the business. It may not be improper here 
to insert part of a letter, written by Mr. Dallas to the 
Editor, upon hearing of this proposal : 

" As to an executor's veto — shall an executor be al- 
lowed to decide on the publication of a work (letters) 
on general topics, when it may be enough that there is 
in it a difference of opinion on religion, morality, or 
politics.'^ This is an argument which should be strongly 
urged. I see neither law nor equity in such a veto, yet 
do not deny either, if the letters are libellous; but this 
is not to be vaguely supposed, and my letters to Mrs. 
Leigh, far from supporting such a suggestion, supports 
the contrary." " However, I do not wish to keep up 
contention, and have no objection {go which ivay the 
Chancellor's decision may) to say, printed with consent 
of the executors — and they will be foolish not to consent, 
for the circulation of the work would be but wider if 



PRELtMINARY STATEMENT. \[ 

they do not; so act in this as you judge best. But I do 
not think the sheets should be shown to him. * * 

I believe I cut out the Portsmouth anecdote. I know 
I did, and he is hardly even alluded to in any of the let- 
ters; but he ought not to see it.^" " The Chancellor's 
dissolving this injunction is no reason why he should 
not grant injunctions against the publications of Moore 
or * * * which, unsupported by such an answer and 
such testimonies as mine, might be confirmed. Our 
case does not decide the general question : our docu- 
ments take it out of the general case of publishing inju- 
rious letters." 

While Mr. Hobhouse went to co.nsult his colleague, 
the Editor applied to his legal advisers, by whom cer- 
tain legal difficulties, about the word " permission/' 
were stated to him. In consequence of what th«re took 
place, he drew out the following statement, which he 
gave to Lord Byron as the ground for the future con- 
ducting of the negotiation. 

" Mr. Dallas has no objection to insert the following 
advertisement after the title page of the work. 

" ADVERTISEMENT. 

" The publication of this work having been delayed 

in consequence of an injunction from the Court of 

Chancery, obtained on the application of the executors 

of Lord Byron, it is proper to state upon their authority 



Ill PRELIMINARY STATEMENT, 

that the work had not been submitted to their inspec- 
tion, when they entertained their objection to its publi- 
cation; but that, having since been made acquainted 
with its contents, they have withdrawn their objection, 
and consented to the dissolution of the injunction." 

" If the objection of the executors of the late Lord 
Byron be, that the publication of this work should not 
be drawn into a precedent by others, for giving to the 
world their improper and unauthorized compilations 
relative to Lord Byron, it is presumed that this adver- 
tisement will be considered sufficient for that purpose. 

" If the executors do not consider this to be sufficient 
for that purpose, Mr. Dallas would only object to the 
words ' published by permission of the executors of the 
late Lord Byron,^ being printed with the work, inasmuch 
as it may seem to acknowledge a 'property, as belonging 
to the executors, which he does not acknowledge to 
belong te them — but to meet the supposed object of the 
executors, as above stated, Mr. Dallas will consent to 
the insertion of those words, if the executors will sign a 
paper to the following effect : 

" ' We, the executors of the late Lord Byron, hereby 
assign and make over to R. C. Dallas, his heirs, execu- 
tors, or assigns, all and every interest, property, right, 
claim, or demand whatsoever, {if any such we have^) in 
such letters of the said Lord Byron as are inserted in a 
work, entitled ' Private Correspondence of Lord Byron, 
&c. &c.' whether such letters are addressed to the said 



PRELIMINARY STATEMENT. JJJJ. 

R. C. Dallas, or to Mrs. Catherine Gordon Byron, the 
mother of the said Lord Byron.' " 

In the mean time, however, the two executors had 
consulted together, and Lord Byron received the follow- 
ing communication from Mr. Hobhouse : — 

" I saw Mr. Hanson this evening, and have to inform 
you, that he objects to stopping the proceedings until the 
question can be laid before counsel, after your friend 
Mr. Dallas has filed his affidavits, or made his answer." 

This opening being thus closed up, the answer and 
affidavits were filed. Whether the question of negocia- 
tion was laid before counsel or not, Mr. Hanson best 
knows ; but all that the Editor can say is, that four 
affidavits were immediately filed, intended to oppose the 
dissolution of the injunction. 

The first was the affidavit of William Fletcher, in 
which he swears that he had lived with Lord Byron for 
the last eighteen years, as his lordship's valet and head 
servant, and accompanied him abroad in the month of 
April, 1816. He then declares, " that when he was with 
Lord Byron at Venice, in the latter end of the year 
1816, or the beginning of 1817, in a conversation which 
he then and there had with his Lordship, touching his 
property and things which he had left behind him in 
England, the deponent represented to him, that some of 
his (Fletcher's) property had been seized by his Lord- 
ship's creditors, together with his own property, when 
Lord Byron stated to the deponent, that he would 
make good his (Fletcher's) loss. And he, the said 



liy PRELIMINARY STATEMENT. 

Lord Byron, then told the deponent, that he was ex- 
tremely glad that he the said Lord Byron had taken 
care of most of the things that were of most consequence 
to him, such as letters and papers, which he thought of 
more consequence than all they had seized ; for that he 
the said Lord Byron had before left them with several 
of his friends to be taken care of for him ; some with 
Mr. Hobhouse, others with Mrs. Leigh, and others with 
Mr. Dallas, meaning the above-named defendant Robert 
Charles Dallas, at the same time saying to deponent, 
*you know Mr. Dallas, he who used so often to call on 
me,' or to that effect." 

To this assertion Fletcher adds his opinion and im- 
pression, that in speaking of the letters and papers so 
left in the care of Mr. Dallas, Lord Byron spoke of 
them as his own property, and did not convey to 
Fletcher's mind any notion that he had given them to 
Mr. Dallas. 

It was really necessary that Fletcher should have 
sworn to his impression and opinion, as to the proprie- 
tor of the papers so left, for, from the subject of the 
conversation, in the course of which they were casually 
mentioned, it seems doubtful whether Fletcher did not 
think Lord Byron meant that they were his (Fletcher's) 
property, to make up for the loss of the articles seized 
by his lordship's creditors. This interpretation however 
would militate against Mr, Hobhouse s affidavit, where 
he swears that Lord Byron never meant the letters to be 



PRELIMINARY STATEMENT. |y 

published, as the only value they could have beeri to 
Fletcher would be from the " valuable cousideralion" 
which he qjight obtain for their publication. 

But no ; this was not Fletcher's idea of the matter. 
He understood that whatever papers Lord Byron left 
with Mr, Dallas were left for safe custody, because, as 
Mr. Hobhouse says, he was going to leave England. 

It is somewhat singular that leaving papers and letters, 
several boxes containing great quantities of them, as is 
afterwards sworn, which he considered of more conse- 
quence than the goods and chattels of which his credit- 
ors had deprived him, with Mr. Hobhouse and Mrs. 
Leigh, Lord Byron should have selected a very small 
bundle of particular letters, and left them, and them only, 
in the charge of another person nearly two years before 
he went abroad. So small and particular a selection 
from the great mass of his papers seetns strange, unless, 
having high value for them, he did not consider that 
which was safe custody for his other papers was safe 
custody for these. But there is a stranger circumstance, 
too, which under the supposition that the letters were so 
left for special safe custody when he was going abroad, 
is not only strange but absolutely unaccountable In the 
autumn of the same year, 1814, on which this sacred 
deposit was supposed to be made, and only a few months 
after, the person to whom this precious charge was 
given, took the very step, the intention of doing which 
is said to have produced the deposit. He left the coun- 



Ivi PRELIMINARY STATEMENT. 

try and went abroad ; and on the day before he set ofi' 
from London, in conversation with Lord Byron, he lold 
him that his object in then going, was to seek the most 
eh'gible place for a future residence for himself and his 
family abroad. Yet did nothing pass upon the subject 
of such a deposit. A conmiunication took place be- 
tween them, when Mr. Dallas was at Bordeaux, in Dec. 

1814, And when, in March, 1815, the return of 
Buonaparte to France brought him home again, he 

• 

visited Lord Byron as before ; yet did nothing pass upon 
the subject of such a deposit. At the end of the year 

1815, Mr. Dallas took his family abroad and settled in 
Normandy, taking with him the letters which Lord 
Byron had made him a present of. Lord Byron knew 
of this second going abroad, and heard from Mr. Dallas 
when he had fixed upon his place of residence ; yet did 
nothing pass upon the subject of such a deposit. 

But to come nearer to the time mentioned in Fletcher's 
affidavit, that in which his conversation occurred with 
Lord Byron. In the beginning of the very same year, 

1816, his lordship, being then about to leave England, 
himself proposed to Mr. Dallas's son, (the Editor who 
now writes this narrative,) to accompany him in his tra- 
vels. A long conversation took place upon the subject, 
in which Mr. Dallas was mentioned; and perhaps the 
Editor will be pardoned, under the present circum- 
stances, for adding that he was mentioned by Lord By- 
ron with a grateful feeling, as " one of his oldest and best 



PUELIMINARY STATEMENT. \y\\ 

friends." His place of residence was referred to; and 
yet not one word passed that had the least reference to 
any deposit of papers or letters as having been made to 
him. If Lord Byron had given valuable papers in charge ^ 
to Mr. Dallas for safe custody, when his lordship was 
going abroad, would it not have been natural that he 
should resume them vVhen he found that the person with 
whom he had deposited them was himself in tho situa- 
tion which had induced, him to put them out of his own 
custody.'' And when in fact he was leaving the coun- 
try, in conversing with Mr. DaHas's son would he not 
most probably have mentioned the circumstance, as a 
remembrance or as a renewal of the charge, if even he 
had not thought fit to resume it.'' If therefore Fletcher's 
remembrance of a very casual remark at the distance of 
eight years be correct, it is more reasonable to suppose 
that Lord Byron spoke loosely, recollecting merely the 
literary communication he had so long had with Mr. 
Dallas, than to place such an incidental remark against 
the body of circumstantial evidence which has been 
brought to prove the gift of these letters to Mr. Dallas. 
The next affidavit is really ludicrous; it is sworn by 
the Honourable Leicester Stanhope; and^ begins by stat- 
ing " that for several months prior, and down to the time 
of Lord Byron's death, which happened on the 19th of 
April last at Missolonghi, an intimacy subsisted between 
him, the deponent, and the said Lord Byron." It is 
Irilty.absurd to see how all Lord Byron's monthly friends 

H 



iyijj PRELIMINARY STATEMENT. 

prostitute the word intimacy. The reporter of his Lord- 
ship's Conversations, lately published, is a remarkable 
instance of this, and the present affidavit is no less so; 
it shall be given to the reader in Mr. Stanhope's own 
words. The honourable deponent goes on thus: — 

" Saith, that al^out three months before said Lord 
Byron's death, he, deponent, held a conversation with 
said Lord Byron, touching the events of his Lordship's 
life, and the publication thereof at a future period; and, 
upon that occasion, said Lord Byron, in talking to him, 
deponent, of certain persons who, he said, were in pos- 
session of the requisite information for writing a Me- 
moir, or History of his, said Lord Byron's, Life, he, said 
Lord Byron, made no allusion whatsoever to the de- 
fendant, Robert Charles Dallas, or to any Memoir, or 
History of his Lordship, or the events of his life, pre- 
paring, or prepared by him, said Robert Charles Dallas; 
but, on the contrary, said Lord Byron, in the course of 
the conversation above alluded to, named two indivi- 
duals by name, as being the most competent to write 
the History, or Memoir, of his life, neither of whom was 
said Robert Charles Dallas. 

" Saith, that said Lord Byron never, in conversation 
which deponent so had with him as aforesaid, or in any 
other conversation which he, deponent, had with said 
Lord Byron, ever mentioned, or alluded, to the name of 
said Robert Charles Dallas, or intimated, or convd)^d, 



PRELIMINARY STATEMENT. Jjj. 

to deponent, that he, said Lord Byron, knew that said 
Robert Charles Dallas had any intention of publishing 
any Memoir, or History, or Life of his Lordship, or that 
he had given said Robert Charles Dallas any permission 
to write or publish any thing concerning said Lord By- 
ron, or any letters written by him, said Lord Byron, 
and which deponent thinks it extremely probable said 
Lord Byron would have done had he possessed any 
knowledge of said Robert Charles Dallas's intention to 
publish any thing concerning him, said Lord Byron, and 
more particularly if said Lord Byron had given said 
Robert Charles Dallas any consent or permission so to 
do." 

The Honourable Leicester Stanhope's idea of the ne- 
cessary communicativeness of a few months intimacy 
is somewhat new, and will, of course, have sufficient 
weight to prevent any but the two persons who are pro- 
perly qualified from writing any thing about Lord Byron. 

After this Mr. Hobhouse appears again to aver, in 
an affidavit, " that for the space of seventeen years pre- 
vious, and down to the time of the death of the above- 
named Lord Byron, which happened about the 19th of 
April last; he was upon terms of the closest intimacy 
and friendship with Lord Byron; and during the years 
1814 and 1815, he associated much with Lord Byron, 
and was in the habit of corresponding with Lord Byron 
from the time he last left England, which was in the 
month of April, 1816; and the deponent declares that 



JX PRELIMINARY STATEMENT. 

upon Gord Byron's going abroad, his Gordship left in 
his hands, and under his care, several boxes, containing 
great quantities of private letters and papers, which he 
desired deponent to take care of for him during his ab- 
sence from England." He goes to swear, " That Lord 
Byron did also, previous to his going abraad, as depo- 
nent believes, leave quantities of letters and papers of a 
private nature, with others of his friends in England for 
safe custody, and to be taken care of for him. And, 
that Lord Byron, for many years previous to his going 
abroad, as aforesaid, was in the habit of imparting his 
private concerns and transactions to him, but that Lord 
Byron never told him, or gave him, in any manner, to 
understand, that he had presented, or given, any letters 
whatsoever to R. C. Dallas, for his own use, or benefit, 
or to be published." 

If this assertion is good for any thing, it is good to 
prove Lord Byron did not leave the letters with Mr. 
Dallas for safe custody; for, if in the course of such 
confidential communication, as is here described, his 
Lordship never mentioned to Mr. Hobhouse having 
done so, even while placing large quantities of papers 
in his own hands for safe custody, when it would have 
been so very natural to refer to the circumstance, the 
inference is strong that no such circumstance took 
place. If Lord Byron had mentioned to Mr. Hobhouse 
having so done, he certainly would have sworn to that 
fact, when, from the paucity of positive information, he 



FliELIMINARY STATEMENT. JxJ 

was reduced to the necessity of swearing to suppositions 
as has been shown. The case, therefore, stands thus: 
Mr. Hobhouse does swear that Lord Byron did not tell 
him that he had given the letters to Mr. Dallas; and 
Mr. Hobhouse does not swear that Lord Byron told him 
he had left them for safe custody with Mr. Dallas; the 
one proves one fact at least, as much as the other proves 
the other, and, therefore, in this debtor and creditor ac- 
count of the affidavit the balance is nothing. 

Mr. Hobhouse ends his affidavit by swearing " that 
Lord Byron had it in contemplation, to the knowledge 
of the deponent, to go abroad about June, 1814, and 
had actually made preparations for such his last men- 
tioned journey, and that the deponent had agreed to 
accompany him, but that Lord Byron afterwards altered 
his intention, and did not go.'' 

This point also forms the opening assertion of the 
next deponent, the Honourable Augusta Mary Leigh, the 
half sister of the late Lord Byron. She states that she 
well remembers that Lord Byron did, about June, 1814, 
make preparations, and then had it in contemplation to 
go abroad, but that he did not then go abroad as he had 
contemplated and intended. 

When a lady swears merely to her remembrance, she 
may very innocently make a mistake in a year, espe- 
cially after the lapse of ten years since the circumstance 
took place. But, in this case, Mr. Hobhouse swears 
■' to the knowledge of the deponent^'' therefore we are 



jxii PRELIMINARY STATEMENT. 

bound, not only to believe what he asserts, but to under- 
stand, that previous to so positive an assertion upon a 
point where the difference of time makes all the differ- 
ence in the matter, he must have consulted any memo- 
randums he may have made, referred to pocket-books 
or letters, so as to convince himself from some more 
tangible data than that furnished by memory, that it 
really was " about June, 1814," and not " about June, 
1813," that the intention of going abroad existed in 
Lord Byron's mind. 

These observations have arisen from a singular coin- 
cidence. Amongst the late Mr. Dallas's papers the 
Editor has found a printed catalogue of books belong- 
ing to Lord Byron, to be sold. The Editor has fre- 
quently before seen this catalogue, and been informed 
by Mr. Dallas that it referred to an intended sale of 
Lord Byron's library, which was to have taken place in 
consequence of his intention to go abroad ; but that he 
altered his intention before the day of sale, though after 
the announcement, and that consequently the books 
were saved from the hammer. The catalogue is curious, 
as many of the books were presentation copies, given 
to his Lordship by the authors, with their autographs in 
them; but its particular curiosity is from its containing 
the following description of two lots: 

Lot 151 A silver sepulchral urn, made with great taste. With- 
in it are contained human bones, taken from a tomb 
within the long wall of Athens, in the month of Febru- 
ary, 1811. The urn weighs 187 oz. 5. dwt. 



PRELIMINARY STATEMENT. ]j5JjJ 

Lot 152 A silver cup, containing 

" Root of hemlock gathered in the dark," 
• according to the direction of the witches in Macbeth, 
The hemlock was plucked at Athens by the noble 
proprietor, in 1811. — The silver cup weighs 29oz. 
,8dwts. 

The title-page of this catalogue is as follows: — " A 
catalogue of books, the property of a nobleman about 
to leave ffngland on a tour to the Morea. To which 
are adcfed a silver sepulchral urn, containing relics 
brought from Athens, in 1811; and a silver cup, the 
property of the same noble person ; which will be sold 
by auction by R. H. Evans, at his house, No, 26, Pall 
Mall, on Thursday, July 8th, and. the following day. 
Catalogues to be had, and the books viewed at the place 
of sale." ^ 

So far this all corroborates the statement made in the 
two affidavits under consideration, that Lord Byron in- 
tended to go abroad, and made preparations to that 
effect, about June — for it is to be supposed that the 8th 
of July may fairly come within the interpretation of that 
phrase.* There is, however, a generally neglected part 
of the title page, which happened to catch the Editor's 
eye on reading it over; it is the date following the 
printer's name, which runs thus, " Printed by W. Bul~ 

* The gift of the letters to Mr. Dallas was made by Lord Byron, 
on the loth of June, 1814, in performance of a promise made in 
April, 1812. ' 



Ixvi PRELIMINAKY STATEMENT. 

a considerable, tliongh tinavoidable delay, arising from 
the mass of business which peremplorily occupied the 
attention of the Court of Cliancery, on the very last 
day of the Lord Chancellor's public sittings, an attempt 
was made to bring on the consideration of the cause, 
Hobhouse v. Dallas, out of its proper rotation. This 
was resisted; but Lord Eldon being informed of the 
pressing nature of the business, kindly consented (o take 
the papers to his house, and without calling for the 
arguments of counsel, gave his decision at a private sit- 
ting.* Accordingly, on the 2M of August, 1824, the 
Lord Chancellor delivered the following judgment in his 
private room. It is copied literally irom the short-hand 
writer's notes. 

" Lord Chancellor. — In the case of Hobhouse and 
Dallas, 1 shall reserve my judgment on one point till 
Wednesday, because I think it an extreniely difficult 
point. But upon the poi«t, whether this gentleman can 
publish the letters that Lord Byron wrote to himself, I 
cannot say that it is possible for him to be allowed to do 
that. I apprehend the law, as it has been settled with 
Inspect to letters — the property in letters is, (and whether 
that was a decision that could very well have stood at first 
or not, I will not undertake to say, but it is so settled, there- 
fore I do not think I ought to trouble myself at all about 

* It is owing to this circumstance that no report of the cause 
has appeared in the public papers. 



PRELIMINARY STATEMENT. Jxvii 

it,) that if A. writes a letter to B., B. lias the property in 
that letter, for the purpose of reading and keeping it, 
but no property in it to publish it; and, therefore, the 
consequence of that is, that unless the point which re- 
lates to the letters that were written by Lord Byron to 
his mother is a point that can be extended to the letters 
written by Lord Byron to this gentleman himself, — un- 
less the point on the first case affect the point on the 
second, it appears to me that the letters written to him- 
self clearly fall within that rule which I am now alluding 
to. 

"The other is a thing which, after carefully reading 
the bill, and answers of these gentlemen who propose to 
be the publishers, 1 have formed an inclination of opi- 
nion about it, but which I will not at this moment ex- 
press, because I think that opinion must be wrong, un- 
less it is founded on every word that is to be found in 
all the answer relative to the transaction of Lord By- 
ron's putting these letters into the hands of Mr. Dallas. 
That is a point on which i would rather reserve my opi- 
nion till Wednesday morning, and then I will conclude 
it with respect to that question. With respect to the 
letters written to himself, I confess I entertain no doubt 
at all about it. And there is another circumstance too, 
I think, which is, that it is a very different thing with 
respect to letters written by Lord Byron to his mother 
— it is a very different thing, as it appears to me, pub- 
lishing as information what those letters may have com- 



Jxyiij PRELIMINARY STATEMENT. 

municated as matters of fact, and publishing the letters 
themselves. If you are here on Wednesday morning, I 
will give you my judgment on the point which I have 
reserved, and if you are not here, I will give it on Sa- 
turday." 

"Counsel. — Then of course the injunction conti- 
nues as to the letters written to Mr. Dallas himself.'"' 

"Lord Chancellor. — Yes; and with respect to the 
others that will stand over till Wednesday. I don't see 
if an action was brought against Mr. Dallas for publish- 
ing the other letters, I don't see how he could defend 
that action; for the question about the other letters de- 
pends entirely, I think, on what is supposed to have pass- 
ed between himself and Lord Byron alone; and, there- 
fore, if an action was brought against him, there could 
be no evidence at all that would take his case out of the 
reach of the law." 

These are the words of the Lord Chancellor's deci- 
sion as far as it goes. Nothing took place on the Wed- 
nesday with respect to the reserved point; but his Lord- 
ship left town on the following Monday, and previously 
to so doing, he desired the Registrar of the Court to in- 
form Mr. Dallas's solicitor, that " the injunction must 
remain in all its points." 

That no step might be omitted which could by possi- 
bility enable Mr. Dallas to redeem the pledge which he 
had given to the pubhc, the following letter was sent to 



PRELIMINARY STATEMENT. JxJx 

the executors by the parties restrained, by the injunc- 
tion of the Court of Chancery, from pubhshing the let- 
ters in question. 

" To the Executors of the late Right Honourable Lord Byron. 

" London, lAth of Sefitember, 1824. 
" Gentlemen, 

" As the Lord Chancellor has given his opinion that the 
Letters of the late Lord Byron, contained in the work which we 
intended to publish, cannot be made public without the permission 
of his Lordship's executors, we beg to state to you, that the work 
in question has been perused by the present Lord Byron, who has 
expressed his approbation of it, and his desire that it should ap- 
pear; and we now request the permission of the executors for its 
publication, declaring, at the same time,*our readiness to submit 
the work to the inspection of any person to be mutually approved 
of by both parties in this transaction; and if any omissions should 
be suggested to make all such as, upon a fair examination, may 
be considered proper. 

" The favour of an immediate answer is requested, addressed 
under cover to our solicitors, Messrs. S. Turner and Son, Red 
Lion-square. 

" We remain, gentlemen, 

" Your most obedient servants, 

" Alex. R. C. Dallas, for R. C. Dallas, 
" Charles Knight, for myself, 
and Henry Colburn." 

In consequence of this letter written by the parties to 
the executors themselves, Messrs. Turner and Son, the 
solicitors to those parties, received the following letter. 



Ixx PRELIMINARY STATEMENT. 

without a date, from Mr. Charles Hanson, the sohcitor 
to the executors: — 

" Gentlemen, 

" Hothouse and another v. Dallas and others. 
" I AM directed by the executors of the laie Lord Byron, in an- 
swer to a letter addressed to them by your clients, containing a 
proposal for the publication of the late Lord Byron's letters in 
the work in question, to inform you, that the executors do not 
deem it proper to sanction the publication of any of Lord Byron's 
letters; and that they are advised to pursue legal measures to 
compel the delivering up to them such of the letters as they are 
entitled as his representatives to possess. It has been represent- 
ed to the executors that a publication of the letters in question 
has been contemplated abroad. The executors do not vouch for 
the truth of this report; but I think it proper to mention, that if 
such a thing should be done, it will be deemed by the executors a 
contempt of the Injunction granted in this cause. 

" I am, &c. 

" Chas. Hanson." 

This letter having closed every possible avenue by 
which the correspondence could be jjjiven to the British 
public, as had been promised, Mr. Dallas was placed in 
the situation which was stated at the beginning of this 
narrative ; and there was no alternative left to him but 
the step which has now been taken. The following 
Recollections will, it is hoped, sufficiently establish 
the propriety of the intended publication as far as relates 
to the nature of its contents ; this statement is how given 
to the public with a view to prove the propriety of Mr. 



PRELIMINARY STATEMENT. Jxxi 

Dallas's intention and conduct in promising its publica- 
tion ; and the existence of the injunction relieves him 
from all blame in not performing his promise. 

After the full statement that has been made, it will not 
be necessary to detain the reader much longer from the 
perusal of the Recollections themselves. There are, 
however, three points to which the Editor begs to draw 
attention : — the first is the difference between the words 
''' private''' and " confiderdiaU'^ The parties who oppose 
the publication of the correspondonce made use of them 
as synonymous ; against this use of them, the parties 
who intended the publication distinctly protest. The 
•private letters of a public man are thos^ in which, un- 
restrained by the present intention of publication to the 
world, he naturally and inartificially conveys his thoughts, 
sentiments, and opinions to a friend. Can it be said 
that when a man's celebrity has raised him from his 
peculiar circle to belong to the unlimited one of all man- 
kind, and when his death has made him the subject of 
history, and rendered the development of his character 
interesting to all the world, it is a breach of confidence 
to give to the world such private letters so written } 
Confidential letters are those in which any man intrusts 
that which at the time he would not make known, to the 
keeping and secrecy of one in whom he confides. Such 
letters, it is a breach of confidence, and highly dishon- 
ourable, to publish. The editor submits these defini- 
tions to the criticism of the public ; and by them he 



Ixxiv PRELIMINARY STATEMPiNT. 

afterwards come forth; for they have the power offered 
to them of sanctioning the work in the title-page by their 
" permission," which would leave them at liberty to 
resist any unsanctioned publication. They, therefore, 
are forced to acknowledge, as they do in the course of 
these proceedings, that their opposition is a matter of 
properly, — that is to say, that they want to make the most 
of these letters for the benefit of the late Lord Byron's 
legatee,* 

No one, under all the circumstances, can doubt, 
morally speaking, that Lord Byron made a free gift to 
Mr. Dallas of his mother's letters. Other proof than 
that which can now be given might, perhaps, be neces- 
sary to satisfy the requirements of law, but, certainly, 
the oaths that have been sworn are not calculated to 
remove the moral conviction from the mind, that the 
letters are the property of Mr. Dallas. As it is not 
according to the rules of law that matters of feeling are 
decided, there is a circumstance, of no slight importance, 

* It is hardly possible to be believed that all these oaths, as of 
knowledge upon surmisings, have for their object to add a few 
hundreds to the hundred thousand of pounds that Lord Byron has 
stripped from an ancient and honourable title which they were 
meant to support — not to give to his daughter, which would have 
put the silence of feeling upon the reproach of justice, but to en- 
rich his sister of the half blood, she being married, and of course 
naturally bound only to expect and to follow the fortunes of her 
husband. 



PRELIMINARY STATEMENT. JxxV 

which should be taken into consideration in forming an 
opinion upon this transaction. For many years of his 
life Lord Byron never saw Mys. Leigh, and would have 
no communication with her; he was averse to the society 
of the sex, and thought lightly of family ties. This 
separation continued from his boyhood up to the year 
1812; during the latter part of which period Mr. Dallas, 
continually, but fruitlessly, endeavoured to induce Lord 
Byron to take notice of Mrs. Leigh. However, after 
his return to England, when the publication of Childe 
Harold was approaching, his arguments were urged 
with more force, and Lord Byron, at length, yielded to 
them. The gift of an early copy of the Filgrimage was 
one of the first steps towards a renewal of intercourse; 
and the kind and affectionafre terms in which that gift 
was expressed, as mentioned in the following Recollec- 
tions, were the result of feelings which Mr. Dallas had 
endeavoured to excite. That gentleman, during his 
life time, never took merit to himself for promoting this 
union, though he has frequently mentioned the circum- 
stances to the Editor, who now makes use of them 
without having been entrusted to do so; but, impelled 
by the necessity of vindicating his father under the un- 
expected treatment he has experienced.* 

* The result of this union, so produced, has been, that Lord 
Byron, against all moral right, has applied the money procured 
by the. sale of Newstead Abbey, to enrich his half sister, and left 
the family title without the family estate which belonged to it. It 



IxXVi PRELIMINARY STATEMENT. 

The Lord Chancellor's decision sets the question of 
law at rest; and the Editor is anxious distinctly to state, 
that neither Mr. Dallas nor himself have ever presumed 
to- call in question the soundness of an opinion given 
by the venerable Lord Eldon. Neither of them, indeed, 
had taken the legal view of the subject, which his Lord- 
ship appears to have entertained; and they were war- 
ranted in bringing the matter to an issue, by the opinion 
of one of the most deservedly celebrated lawyers at the 
Chancery Bar. Without such an opinion, they certainly 
would not have added the heavy expenses of a Chancery 

may be said against all moral right, because the grant of New- 
stead was made by Henry VIII., to his ancestor, as the represen- 
tative, at that lime, of a very ancient and honourable family, which 
Avas afterwards ennobled by James I., having the estate, as well as 
that of Rochdale, in possession, to support the title so given. 
Lord Byron received this title and estate together in collateral 
descent, he being the grand nephew only of his predecessor. 
The law which destroyed the perpetuity of entails could not de- 
stroy the feelings which makes a man morally bound to transmit 
such honours and such an estate together to his successors ; and 
had Lord Byron's grand uncle sold Newstead and Rochdale, be- 
cause he had no son, nor even brother, nor nephew, nor cousin^ to 
succeed him, but only a grand nephew, his Lordship would have 
been the first to have felt the moral injustice done him. Lord 
Byron is succeeded in a nearer relationship than that in which he 
stood to his predecessor; yet he leaves a title and a name dis- 
tinguished in almost every generation, from the conquest, without 
any of the rewards which were given to the successive bearers of 
that name, to support its ancient honours. 



PRELIMINARY STATEMENT. Ixxvii 

Suit, to the already considerable loss occasioned by the 
nearly completed preparations for publishing a large 
edition of the work in quarto. It is particularly neces- 
sary, thus publicly to declare an humble submission to 
the authority of the Court of Chancery, as the appear- 
ance of the work in France may induce a supposition 
that the Author and Editor could be guilty of an inten- 
tional contempt of that Court. To prevent such a sup- 
position, which would be very far from the truth, the 
Editor has only to declare, that the arrangements for 
publication with Messrs. A. and W. Galigntini, of Paris, 
were made by Mr. Dallas, not only before the matter 
was decided; but that the foundation of .those arrange- 
ments was laid before the work was offered to any book- 
seller in Londont To this fact the following letter will 
bear testimony: — 

" To Messrs. A. and W. Galignani, Paris. 
" Ste. AdressCf near Havre de Gracey May 31, 1824. 
" Gentlemen, 

" You may, perhaps^ remember my calling at your house 
when I was in Paris some time ago. I write at present to inform 
you, that I have some very interesting manuscripts of Lord By- 
ron's, which I am going to publish in London, where I purpose 
to send them as soon as they are copied. I am not decided as to 
disposing of the copyright; but whether I do or not, I mean to 
offer them to a Paris publisher for a translation, so that the French 
and English editions may appear at the same time. I offer you 
the preference ; but I beg an immediate answer, as I mean, if you 



IXXViii PRELIMINARY STATEMENT. 

decline the offer, to write to a friend in Paris to treat with another 
respectable bookseller. 

" With regard to the interest of the work, you cannot, it is true, 
judge of that without a raore particular communication; but all I 
wish at present to know is, whether you would enter into this spe- 
culation, if the manuscripts prove to possess great interest. I 
would give you a sight of them, if the distance between us did 
pot prevent it, but in the course of this week they go to London. 

" When I was in Paris, I gave you a print of Lord Byron. It 
was much soiled, but certainly the best likeness I have seen of 
him. You purposed having a reduced engraving made of it — did 
you get it done ? 

"I am, gentlemen, 
• "-Your humble servant, 

«R. C. ETallas," 

After arranging for the publication jn England, Mr. 
Dallas returned without loss of time to France. At 
Paris, he entered into a written agreement with Messrs. 
Galignani, according to the terms of which the sheets 
were transmitted to them, as they were struck off in 
London. Mr. Dallas himself remained in Paris to con- 
duct the work through the press; and it had nearly ad- 
vanced as far as the edition in England, when the pro- 
gress of both was arrested by the Injunction. Mr. 
Dallas has been under the necessity of abiding by the 
pecuniary loss to a large amount, which the advanced 
state of the work, when stopped, brings upon him in 
England; but this very fact is a reason why he should 
be unable to mee| a similar loss to nearly a similar 



PRELIMINARY STATEMENT. Ixxix 

amount in France. And not only were the actual ex- 
penses incurred to be considered, but, by suppressiiJg 
the work in Paris, he would have been liable to the con- 
sequences of a law-suit upon his formal contract there 
also. Mr. Dallas, therefore, was left without a reason- 
able alternative, and the arrangements with Messrs. 
Galignani have been allowed to proceed; and this the 
more necessarily, as from the number of hands through 
which the manuscript had passed, and the copies of it 
which had been dispersed for translation and other lite- 
rary purposes, it was impossible to guard against the 
almost certain appearance of the work in part, or in 
the whole, however unsanctioned by the approbation of 
the Editor. In these arrangements with Messrs. Galig- 
nani, Mr. Knight and Mr. Colburn were not, and are 
not, in any respect parties; — the right of such publica- 
tion having been reserved to Mr. Dallas in the original 
agreement. 



NOTE. 



As, in the first page of this work, it is asserted that Lord Byrotj 
was born at Dover, and as the public newspapers stated that, in 
the inscription on the urn which contained his Lordship's relics 
it was said that he was born in London, the Editor thinks it right 
to publish the extract of a letter to himself, from the Author of 
the following Recollectidns, in which his reasons for making the 
assertion are stated : — 

" I find in the newspapers that Lord Byron is stated on the urn 
to have been born in London. The year previous to the January 
when he was born, I was on a visit to Captain Byron and my sister 
at Chantilly. Lord Byron's father and mother, with Mrs. Leigh, 
then Augusta Byron, a child then about four years old, were in 
France. I returned to Boulogne, where I then had a house, 
where I was visited by Mrs. Byron, in her way to England ; she 
was pregnant, and stopped at Dover on crossing the Channel. 
That Lord Byron was born there I recollect being mentioned both 
by his uncle and my sister, and I am so fully persuaded of it 
(Capt. Byron and my sister soon followed, and staid some time at 
Folkstone), that I cannot even now give full credit to the contrary, 
and half suspect that his mother might have had him christened 
in London, and thus given ground for a mistake." 



RECOLLECTIONS 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 



CHAPTER L 



CONNEXION AND FIRST PERSONAL ACQUAINT- 
ANCE WITH LORD BYRON. 



Lord Byron was a nephew of the late Captain George 
Anson Byron, of the Royal Navy, who was married to 
my sister, Henrietta Charlotte. In consequence of this 
connexion I was well acquainted with Lord Byron^s 
father and mother. The former, whose name was John, 
died at Valenciennes not long after the birth of his son, 
which took place at Dover, 22d January, 1788; the 
latter went with her child into Scotland, and I lost sight 
of them for many years. I heard of him when a boy 
at De Loyaute's Academy, and afterwards, on the death 
of the old Lord, his grand uncle, when he was placed 
at Harrow. Captain Byron and my sister were then 
both dead, and I saw httle of the Byron family for several 
years. 



2 RECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

Lord Byron was called George after his uncle, who 
was his godfather; the name of Gordon had been 
assumed by his father in compliance with a condition 
imposed by will on the husband of Miss Gordon, the 
maiden name of his mother, and on the representatives 
of her family. 

At the end of the year 1807, some of my family ob- 
served in the newspapers extracts from Lord Byron's 
Juvenile Poems, wliich he had published under the title 
of Hours of Idleness, 1 ordered the volume, which I 
received on the 27th of December, I read it with great 
pleasure; and, if it is not saying too much for my own 
judgment, discerned in it marks of the genius which 
has been since so universally acknowledged. Though 
sensible of some personal gratification from this proof 
of superior talents breaking forth in the nephew of my 
friend and brother, it did not enter my mind to make it 
the occasion of seeking the author, till I was urged to 
compliment him upon his publication, which I did in 
the following letter, dated January 6th, 1808: — 

" My Lord, 

" Your Poems were sent to me a few days ago. I 
have read them with more pleasure than I can express, 
and I feel myself irresistibly impelled to pay you a tribute 
on the effusions of a noble mind in strains so truly poetic. 
Lest, however, such a tribute from a stranger should ap- 
pear either romantic or indecorous, let me inform your 



UFE OF LORD BYRON. 3 

Lordship that the name of Byron is extremely dear to 
me, and that for some portion of my life I was intimately 
connected with, and enjoyed the friendship of a near 
relation of yours, who had begun to reflect new lustre 
on it, and who, had he lived, would have added a large 
share of laurels to those which your Muse so sweetly 
commemorates ; I mean your father's brother, through 
whom I also knew your father and mother. 

Your Poems, my Lord, are not only beautiful as com- 
positions ; — they bespeak a heart glowing with honour, 
and attuned to virtue, which is infinitely the higher 
praise. Your addresses to Newslead Abbey, a phice 
about which I have often conversed with your uncle, are 
in the true spirit of chivalry ; and the following lines are 
in a spirit still more sublime : 

" I will not complain, and though chill'd is affection, 
With mc no corroding resentment shall live ; 

My bosom is calm'd by the simple reflection 

That both may be ^rong, and that both should forgive." 

A spirit that brings to my mind another noble author, 
who was not only a fine poet, orator, and historian, but 
one of the closest reasoners we have on the truth of that 
religion of which forgiveness is a prominent principle ; 
the great and the good Lord Lyttleton, whose fame will 
never die. His son, to whom he had transmitted genius 
but not virtue, sparkled for a moment, and went out like 
a falling star, and with him the title became extinct. 



|, KECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

He was the victim of inordinate passions, and he will be 
heard of in tills world oidy by those who read the Eng- 
lish Peerage. The lines which 1 have jnst cited, and 
the sentiments that pervade your vohnne, sufficiently in- 
dicate the affinity of your mind with the former ; and I 
have no doubt that like him you will reflect more hon- 
our on the Peerage than the Peerage on you. 

I wish, my Lord, that it had been within your plan, 
and that you had been pertnitted to insert an)ong your 
poems the verses from your friend complaining of the 
warmth of your descriptions. They must liave been 
much to his honour ; and, from the general sentiments 
of your reply, I think your Lordship will not long con- 
tinue of an opinion you express in it : I mean, tl^at you 
will not always consider the strength of virtue in some, 
and the downhill career of other young women, as ren- 
dering the perusal of very lively descriptions a matter of 
indilference. Those whom education and early habits 
have made strong, and those whom-^eglected nurseries 
or corrupt schools have rendered weak, are, perhaps, 
few compared to the number that are for a time unde- 
cided characters ; that is, who have not been advanced 
to the adamantine rock of purity by advice and by ex- 
ample ; nor, on the other hand, are yet arrived at the 
steep pitch of descent where their progress cannot be 
arrested, but are still within the intluencc of impressions. 
Rousseau acknowledges the danger of warm descrip- 
tions, in the front of a book in which that danger is 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 5 

pushed to its utmost extent ; and, at the same time, with 
his usual paradoxical inconsistency, says it will not be 
his fault that certain ruin ensues, for good girls should 
not read novels. I have not the JVouvellc Heloisc by me, 
but I translate the passage from an Essay on Romances 
by Marmontel : " No chaste young woman,^' says Rous- 
seau, " ever reads novels, and I have given this a title 
sufficiently expressive to show, on opening it, what is to 
be expected. She who, in spite of that title, shall dare 
to read a single page of it is a lost young woman : but 
let her not impute her ruin to this book ; the mischief 
was done before, and as she has begun let her read to 
the end ; she has nothing more to risk."* On this 
Marmontel asks if the title. Letters of two Lovers, 
is a bug-bear, and adds : " shall he who puts sweet poi- 
son in the reach of children say, if they poison them- 
selves, that he is not to be blamed for it .'^" 

Having perhaps already trespassed too much on your 
time, I will not pursue this subject further, but content 
myself with referring your Lordship to the Essay which 
I have cited for an admirable critique on Rousseau's 
Novel. It is printed with Marmontel's other works. 

• • 

* " Jamais fille chaste n'a lu des romans, el j'ai mis a celle ci 
un litre assez decide, pour qu'en I'ouvrant on sdt a quoi s'en 
tenir. CeUe qui,"malgre ce titre, en osera lire une page est une 
^lle perdue : mais qu'elle n'impute point sa perte "5 ce livre; Ic 
mal 6ioit fait d'avance. Puisqu'elle a commence, qu'elle ach^ve 
de lire : elle n'a plus rien a risquer." 



Q IlECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

And now, my Lord, shall I conclude with an apology 
for my letter? If I thought one necessary I would burn 
it: yet I should feel myself both delighted and honoured 
if I were sure your Lordship would be better pleased 
with its being put into the post than into the fire. Most 
sincerely do I wish you success in those pursuits to which 
I conceive you allude in your preface; and I congratu- 
late you that, at so early a period of your life, and in 
spite of being a favourite of the Muses, you feel yourself 
born for your country." 

Lord Byron conveyed to me in a flattering manner 
the pleasure which he had received from this letter, as 
far as it contained a tribute to his muse, but declared 
that he must in candour decline such-praise as he did 
not deserve, and that therefore, with respect to his virtue, 
he could not accept of my applause. He was forcibly 
struck with the manner in which I had alluded to the 
two Lords Lyttleton with reference to himself, as he had 
frequently been compared to the latter. The events of 
his short life had been singular, and had had the effect 
of causing him to be held up as the votary of licentious- 
ness, and th<e disciple of infidelity; though in this respect 
he felt he was made out to be worse than he really was. 
He mentioned to me some of the Reviews in which his 
little volume had been noticed; and intimating that my 
name and connexion with his family had long been 



LIFE OP LORD BYRON. 7 

known to him, expressed a pleasing desire of a personal 
acquaintance. 

This communication, while it highly gratified me, was 
calculated to excite a strong desire to know more of the 
character and feelings of a young man who evinced so 
much genius, and who gave such an account of the re- 
sults of a life which had not yet occupied twenty years. 
I immediately expressed my feelings in the following 
letter, dated January 21, 1808:— 

" I am much indebted to the impulse that incited me 
to write to you, for the new pleasure it has procured 
me. 

Though your letter has made some alteration in the 
portrait my imagination had painted, it has in two points 
heightened it ; the candour with which you decline praise 
you think you do not deserve, and your declaration that 
you should be happy to merit it, convince me that you 
have been very injudiciously compared to the last Lord 
Lyttleton. I own that, from the design you express in 
your preface of resigning the Muses for a different voca- 
tion, I conceived you bent on pursuits which lead to the 
character of a legislator and statesman. I imagined you 
at one of the Universities, training yourself to habits of 
reasoning and eloquence, and storing up a large fund of 
history and law, preparatory to the time when your rank 
in society must necessarily open to you an opportunity 
of gratifying a noble ambition. But 1 have not taken 

M 



g RECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

up the pen to make yoiir Lordship's letter the subject of 
a sermon: on the contrary, I urn perfectly sensible that 
if yoii do indeed need the reform some of your friends 
think you do, pedantry will never effect it; and though 
my years and the coniplinienls you pay me might be some 
excuse for me, the only inclination 1 feel at present is to 
express a warm wish that so much candour, good sense, 
and talent, may lead you to the know ledge of truth, and 
the enjoyment of real happiness. I write principally 
to thank you for the honour you intend me by a gift of 
the new edition of your poems, which I shall be happy 
to receive; and to say that I mean to avail myself of your 
expressions relative to a meeting, to pay my compliments 
to you in Albemarle-street, in the course of a few days. 
While the pen is in my hand, I will just say that my 
mention of Lord Lyttleton to you, who had been com- 
pared with him, is singular: but it is no less remarkable 
that before I was of your age I was anxious to see him, 
and went from school to the House of Peers on purpose, 
when he introduced a bill for licensing a theatre at 
Manchester, in which I heard him opposed by your rela- 
tion Lord Carlisle. No, no; you are not like him — you 
shall not be like him, except in eloquence. Pardon this 
last effusion." 

By the return of the post which took this letter to 
him I received a reply, professing to give a more parti- 
cular account of his studies, opinions, and feelings, writ- 



L,1FE OF LORD BYRON. 9 

ten in a playful stylo, and containing rather flippant ob- 
servations made for the sake of antitheses, than serious 

remarks intended to convey information. The letter 

j 

may be considered as characteristic of his prose style in i 
general, possessing the germ of his satire without the 
bitterness of its maturity, and the pruriency of his wit i 
uncorrected by the h;ind of experience. Though writ- 
ten in so light and unserious a tone as prevents the pos- 
sibility of charging him gravely with the opinions he ex- 
presses, still the bent of his nlind is perceptible in it; a 
bent which led him to profess that such were the senti- 
ments of the wicked Geoige Lord Byron. 

I considered these expressions of feeling, though evi- 
dently grounded on some occurrences in the still earlier 
part of his life, rather as jeux d'esprit than as a true por- 
trait. I called on him on the 24th of January, and was 
delighted with the interview. In a few days, the 27th, 
I dined with him, and was more and more pleased with 
him. I saw nothing to warrant the character he h^ 
given of himself; on the contrary, when a young felluvv- 
collegian, who dined with us, introduced a topic on 
which r did not hesitate to avow my orthodoxy, he very 
gracefully diverted the conversation from the channel of 
ridicule which it had begun to take, and partly combat- 
ed on my side; though, as I was afterwards convinced, 
his opinion did not differ from his companion's, who 
was also a polite gentleman, and did not make me feel 
the contempt which he, probably, entertained for the 



10 RECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

blindness of my understanding. After this I saw him 
frequently, always with new pleasure, but occasionally 
mixed with pain, as intimacy removed the polite appre- 
hension of offending, and showed me his engrafted opi- 
nions of religion, I must say engrafted, for I think he 
was inoculated by the young pridelings of intellect, with 
whom he associated at the University. In the course 
of the spring he left town, and I did not see him or hear 
from him for several months. 

In the beginning of the next year, I was agreeably 
surprised on receiving a note from him, dated January 
20th, at Reddish's Hotel, St. James's-street, requesting 
to see me on the morning of the Sunday following. I 
did not fail to keep the appointment. It was his birth- 
day, (January 22d, 1809,) and that on which he came 
of age. He was in high spirits; indeed, so high as to 
seem to me more flippant on the subject of religion, and 
on some others, than he had ever appeared before. Biit 
he tempered the overflow of his gaiety with good man- 
ners and so much kindness, that, far from being inclined 
to take offence, I felt a hope that by adopting forbear- 
ance, I might do him some service in an occasional 
argument or sentiment: for, although I did not put on 
solemn looks, I never, for a moment, allowed him to 
imagine that I could adopt his opinions on sacred points. 
He talked of the Earl of Carlisle with more than indig- 
nation. I had heard him before speak bitterly of that 
nobleman, whose applause he had courted for his juve- 



LIFE OF LOKD BYRON. 1 ] 

nile poetry, and from whom he received a frigid answer, 
and hide attention. But his anger that morning pro- 
ceeded from another cause. Overcoming, or rather 
stifling, the resentment of the poet, he had written to 
remind the Earl that he should be of age at the com- 
mencement of the ensuing Session of Parliament, in 
expectation of being introduced by him, and, by being 
presented as his near relation, saved some trouble and 
awkwardness. A cold reply informed him, technically, 
of the mode of proceeding; but .nothing more. Ex- 
tremely nettled, he determined to lash his relation with 
all the gall he could throw into satire. He declaimed 
against the ties of consanguinity, and abjured even the 
society of his sister; from which he entirely withdrew 
himself until after the publication of Childe Harold, 
when, at length, he yielded to my persuasions, and made 
advances towards a friendly intercourse with her. When 
he had vented his resentment on this subject, he attack- 
ed the editor and other writers of the Edinburgh Re- 
view; and then told me that, since I last saw him, he 
had written a Satire on them, which he wished me to 
read. He put it into my hands, and I took it home. I 
was surprised and charmed with the nerve it evinced. 
I immediately wrote to him upon it, and he requested 
me to get it published without his name. 



12 RECOLLECTIONS OF THE 



CHAPTER II. 

PUBLICATION OF " ENGLISH BARDS AND SCOTCH 
REVIEWERS." 



The work which Lord Byron thus put into my hands 
consisted of a number of loose printed sheets in quarto, 
and was entitled The British Bauds, a Satire. It 
contained the original ground-work of his well-known 
poem, such as he had written it at Newstead, where he 
had caused it to be printed at a country press; and vari- 
ous corrections and annolations appeared upon the mar- 
gin in his own hand. Some of these are exceedingly 
curious, as tending to throw a light upon the workings 
of his mind at that early period of his career. To the 
poem, as it then stood, he added a hundred and ten lines 
in its lirst progress through the press; and made several 
alteiations, some upon my suggestion, and others upon 
his own. I wrote to him the following letter, dated 
January 24, 1809, immediately upon reading it over: — 

"My dear Lord Byron, 

"I have read your Satire with infinite pleasure, 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON, |3 

and were you sufficiently acquainted with my mind to 
be certain that it cannot stoop to flattery, I would tell 
you that it rivals the Baviad and Ma^viad; but, till my 
praise is of that value, I will not be profuse of it. 

I think in general with you of the literary merit of 
the writers introduced. I am particularly pleased with 
your distinction in Scott's character; a man of genius 
adopting subjects wfiich men of genius will hardly read 
twice, if they can go through them once. But, in allow- 
ing Mr. Scott to be a man of genius, and agreeing as 
you must, after the compliments you have paid to Camp- 
bell and MNeil, that he is not the only one Scotland 
has produced, it will be necessary to sacrifice, or modify, 
your note relative to the introduction of the kilted god- 
dess, who; after all, in having to kiss such a son as you 
picture Jetfrey, can be but a spurious germ of divinity. 

As you have given me the flattering office of looking 
over your poem with more than a common reader's eye, 
I shall scrutinize, and suggest any change I may think 
advantageous. And, in the first place, F propose to you 
an alteration of the title. ' The British Bards' imme- 
diately brings to the imagination those who were slain 
by the first Edward. If you prefer it to the one I am 
going to offer, at least let the definite article be left out. 
I would fain, however, have you call the Satire, * The 
Parish Poor of Parnassus;' which will afford an oppor- 
tunity for a note of this nature : — ' BookselK^rs have 
been called the midwives of literature; with how much 



14. 1?£C0LLECT10NS OF THE 

more propriety may they now be termed overseers of 
the poor of Parnassus, and keepers of the workhouse 
of that desolated spot.' 

I enclose a few other alterations of passages, straws 
on the surface, which you would make yourself were 
you to correct the press. 

I will also take the liberty of sending you some two 
dozen hnes, which, if they neither 'offend your ear nor 
your judgment, I wish you would adopt, on account of 
the occasion which has prompted them.* I am acquaint- 
ed with * * *, and, though not on terms of very close 
intimacy, I know him sufficiently to esteem him as a 
man. He has but a slender income, out of which he 
manages to support two of his relations. His literary 
standard is by no means contemptible, and his objects 
have invariably been good ones. Now, for any author 
to step out of the common track of criticism to make a 
victim of such a man by the means of a particular book, 
made up of unfair ridicule and caricature, for the venal 
purpose of collecting a few guineas, is not only un- 
worthy of a scholar, but betrays the malignity of a 
demon. If you think my hnes feeble, let your own 

* In his answer to this letter Lord Byron declined adopting 
these lines because they were not his own, quoting at the same 
time what Lady Wortley Montague said to Pope, " No touch- 
ing, — for the good will be given to you, and the bad attributed to 
me." 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 15 

breast inspire your pen on the occasion, and send me 
some. 

I shall delay the printing as little as possible; but I 
have some apprehension as to the readiness of my pub- 
lishers to undertake the sale, for they have a large portion 
of the work of the Poor of Parnassus to dispose of. I 
will see them without delay,.and persuade them to it if l 
can; if not, I will employ some other. Southey is a 
great favourite of theirs; and I must be in^etiuous enough 
to tell you, that though I have ever disapproved of the 
absurd attempt to alter, or rather destroy, the harmony 
of our verse, and found Joan of Arc and Madoc tedious, 
I think the power of imagination, though of the marvel- 
lous, displayed in Thalaba, 

' Arabia's monstrous, wild, and wondrous son,' 

evinces genius. 

I see your Muse has given a couplet to your noble 
relation; — I doubt whether it will not be read as the two 
severest lines in the Satire, and so, what I could wish 
avoided for the present, betray the author: which will 
render abortive a thought that ^las entered my mind of 
having the Satire most favourably reviewed in the Satir- 
ist, which, on its being known afterwards to be yours, 
would raise a laugh against your enemies in that quarter. 
Consider, and tell me, whether the lines shall stand. I 
agree that there is only one among the peers on whom 

N 



16 RECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

Apollo deigns to smile; but, believe me, that peer is no 
relation of yours. 

I am sorry you have not found a place among the 
genuine Sons of Apollo for Crabbe, who, in spite of 
something bordering on servility in his dedication, may 
surely rank with some you have admitted to his temple. 
And now, before I lay down my pen, I will tell you the 
passage which gave me the greatest pleasure — that on 
Little. I amrno preacher, but it is very pleasing to read 
such a confirmation of the opinion I had formed of you; 
to find you an advocate for keeping a veil over the des- 
potism of the senses. Such poems are far more dangerous 
to society than Rochester's. In your concluding line on 
Little, I would, though in a quotation, substitute, line^ or 
lay, for life: 

' She bids thee mend thy line and sin no more.'* 

Pray answer as soon as you conveniently can, and be- 
lieve me ever," &c. &c. 

The couplet to which I referred as having been given 
by his Muse to his noble relation, wa& one of panegyric 
upon Lord Carlisle, at which I was not a little surprised, 
after what I had so lately beard him say of that noble- 
man; but the fact is, that the lines were composed before 

* In the original the words were " rnend thy life." He how- 
ever adopted the word line. 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 17 

he had written to his Lordship, as mentioned at the end 
of the last chapter, and he had given me the Satire be- 
fore he had made any of his meditated alterations. It 
is, however, curious that this couplet must have been 
composed in the short interval between his printing the 
poem at Newstead and his arrival in town, perhaps under 
the same feelings which induced him to write to Lord 
Carlisle, and at the same time. The lines do not appear 
in the print, but are inserted afterwards in Lord Byron^s 
hand-writing. They are these: — 

On one alone Apollo deigns to smile, 
And crowns a new Roscommon in Carlisle. 

Immediately upon receiving my letter he forwarded four 
lines to substitute for this couplet. 

Roscommon ! Sheffield ! with your spirits fled, 
No future laurels deck a noble head ; 
Nor e'en a hackney'd Muse will deign to smile 
On minor Byron, or mature Carlisle. 

He said that this alteration would answer the purposes 
of concealment ; but it was other feelings than the desire 
of concealment which induced him afterwards to alter 
the two last lines into 

No more will cheer with renovating smile 
The paralytic puling of Carlisle ; 

—and to indulge the malice of his Muse adding these — 



18 



RECOLLEC nONS OF THE 

The puny school-boy and his early lay, 

We pardon, if his follies pass away. 

Who, who forgives the senioi's ceaseless verse, 

Whose hairs grow hoary as his rhymes grow worse. 

What heterogeneous honours deck the peer, 

Lord, rhymester, peiit-maitre, pamphleteer. 

So,dull in youth, so drivelling in his age, 

His scenes aloixe mi.ejht.damn our sinking stage , 

But managers, for once, cried hold, enough ! 

Nor drugged the audience with the tragic stuff. 



j-fiat 1 

!< judgment > 

(_ nausea* J 



Yet at the-< judgment >- let his lordship laugh, 
(_ nausea* J 

And case his volumes in congenial ealf. 

Yes ! doff that covering where morocco shines, 

" And hang a calf skin on those recreant" lines. 

This passage, together with the two notes which accom- 
panied it in the pubhcation of the Poem, and in which 
Lord Byron endeavoured, as much as possible, to en- 
venom his ridicule, he sent to me, in the course of the 
printing, for insertion, as being necessary, according to 
him, to complete the poetical character of Lord Carlisle. 
Six lines upon the same subject, which he also sent me 
to be inserted, he afterwards consented to relinquish at 
my earnest entreaty, which, however, was unavailing to 
procure the sacrifice of any other lines relating to this 
point. Under present circumstances they are become 



• I have given the exact copy of the original manuscript which 
is before me. 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. \ 9 

curious, and there can hardly be any objection to my in- 
serting them here. They were intended to follow the first 
four lines upon the subject, and the whole passage would 
have stood thus — 

Lords too are bards, such things at times befall, 

And 'tis some praise in peers to write at all ; 

Yet did not taste or reason sway the times, 

Ah, who would lake iheir titles with their rhymes. 

In these, our limes, with daily wonders big, 

A l&ttered peer is like a lettered pig ; 

Both know their al^jhabetj but who, from thence, 

Infers that peers or pig^ have manly sense. 

Still less that such should woo the graceful nine ; 

Parnassus was not made for lords and swine. 

Roscommon ! Sheffield, Sec. 8cc. 

Besides the alteration of the panegyrical couplet upon 
Lord Carlisle, he readily acquiesced in my suggestions 
of placing Crabbe amongst the genuine sons of Apollo^, 
and sent me these lines : 

There be who say, in these enlightened days, 
That splendid lies are all the poet's praise, 
That strained invention ever on the wing 
Alone impels the modern bard to sing. 
'Tis true that all who rhyme, nay all who write, 
Shrink from the fatal word to genius — irite : 
Yet Truth sometimes will lend her noblest fires 
And decorate the verse herself inspires : 
This fact in Virtue's name let Crabbe attest, 
Though Nature's sternest painter, yet the best. 



20 RECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

As to the title of the Poem, Lord Byron agreed with me 
in rejecting his own, but also rejected that I had pro- 
posed, and substituted the one with which it was pub- 
lished, " English Bards and Scotch Reviewers.'* 

Upon taking the Satire to my publishers, Messrs. 
Longman and Co., they declined publishing it in conse- 
quence of its asperity, a circumstance to which he after- 
wards adverted in very strong language, making it the 
only condition with which he accompanied his gift to 
me of the copyright of Childe Harbld^s Pilgiimage, 
that it should not be published by that house. I then 
gave it to Mr. Cawthorn, who undertook the publication. 

In reading Lord Byron's Satire, and in tracing the 
progress of the alterations which he made in it as it pro- 
ceeded, it is impossible not to perceive that his feelings 
rather than his judgment guided his pen; and sometimes 
he seems indifferent whether it should convey praise or 
blame. The influence of his altered feelings towards 
his noble relation has been already shown; and an in- 
stance likewise occurred where he, on the contrary, 
substituted approbation for censure, though not of so 
strong a nature as in the former case. Towards the 
end of the Poem, where he, inconsiderately enough, 
compares the poetical talent of the two Universities, in 
the first printed copy that he brought from Newstead 
the passage stood thus: 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 2 J 

Shall hoary Granta call her sable sons, 

Expert in science, more expert in puns ? 

Shall these approach the Muse? ah, no ! she flies 

And even spurns the great Seatonian prize : 

Though printers condescend the press to soil, 

With odes by Smythe, and epic songs by Hoyle. 

Hoyle, whose learn'd page, if still upheld by whist, 

Required no sacred theme to bid us list. — 

Ye who in Granta's honours would surpass, 

Must mount her Pegasus, a full-grown ass ; 

A foal well worthy of her ancient dam. 

Whose Helicon is duller than her Cam. 

Yet hold — as when by Heaven's supreme behest. 

If found, ten righteous had preserved the rest 

In Sodom's fated town, for Granta's name 

Let Hodgson's genius plead, and save her fame. 

But where fair Isis rolls her purer wave, 

The partial muse delighted loves to lave; 

On her green banks a greener wreath is wove. 

To crown the bards that haunt her classic grove. 

Where Richards wakes a genuine poet's fires, 

And modern Britons justly praise their sires. 

Previously, however, to giving the copy to me, he had 
altered the fifth Hne with his pen, making the couplet to 
stand thus: 

Though printers condescend the press to soil. 
With ryhme by Hoare, and epic blank by Hoyle 1 

and then he had drawn his pen through the four lines 
beginning 



:32 RECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

Yet hold, as when by Heaven's supreme behest, 

and had written the following in their place. 

Oh dark asylum of a Vandal race ! 

At once the boast of learning and disgrace, 

So sunk in dulness and so lost in shame, 

That Smythe an'd Hodgson scarce redeem thy fame. 

I confess I was surprised to find the name of Smythe 
uncoupled from its press-soiling companion, to be so 
suddenly ranked with that of Hodgson in such high 
praise. When, however, the fifth edition, which was 
suppressed, was afterwards preparing for publication, he 
again altered the two last lines to — 

So lost to Phoebus that not Hodgson's verse 
Can make thee better, or poor Hewson's worse. 

In another instance, his feeling towards me induced 
him carefully to cover over with a paper eight lines, in 
which he had severely satirized a gentleman with whom 
he knew that I was in habits of intimacy, and to erase 
a note which belonged to them. 

It is not difficult to observe the working of Lord By- 
ron's mind in another alteration which he made. In 
the part where he speaks of Bowles, he makes a refer- 
ence to Pope's deformity of person. The passage was 
originally printed in the country thus: — 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 2S 

Bowles ! in thy memory let this precept dwell, 

Stick to thy sonnets, man! at least they'll sell; 

Or take the only path that open lies 

For modern worthies who would hope to rise : — 

Fix on some well-known name, and bit by bit, 

Pare dff the merits of his worth and wit; 

On each alike employ the critic's knife. 

And where a comment fails prefix a life ; 

Hint certain failings, faults before unknown, 

Revive forgotten lies, and add your own-; 

Let no disease, let no misfortune 'scape, 

And print, if luckily deformed, his shape. • •^- 

Thus shall the world, quite undeceived^t last, 

Cleave to their present wits, and quit the past; 

Bards once revered no more with favour view. 

But give these modern sonnetteers their due : 

Thus w^ith the dead may living merit cope. 

Thus Bowles may triumph o'er the shade of Pope I 

He afterwards altered the whole of this passage except 
the two first lines, and in its place appeared the follow- 
ing:— 

Bowles ! in thy memory let this precept dwell) 
Stick to thy sonnets, man ! at least they sell. 
But if some new-born whim, or larger bribe. 
Prompt thy crude brain, and claim thee for a scribe ; 
If chance some bard, though once by dunces feared, 
Now prone in dust can only be revered ; 
If Pope, whose fame and genius from the first 
Have foiled the best of critics, needs the worst, 
Do thou essay, — each fault, each failing scan ; 
The first of poets was, alas ! but man, 
O 



24, RECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

Rake from each ancient dunghill every pearl, 
Consult Lord Fanny, and confide in Curl! ; 
Let all the scandals of a fornier age 
Perch on thy pen and flutter o'er thy page ; 
Affect a candour which thou can'st not feel, 
Clothe envy in the garb of honest zeal, 
Write as if St. John's soul ceuld still inspire, 
And do from hate, what Mallet did for hire. 
Oh ! hadst thou lived in that congenial time. 
To rave with Dennis, and with Ralph to rhyme, 
Thronged with the rest around his living head, 
Not raised thy hoof against the lion dead, 
A meet reward had crowned thy glorious gains. 
And linked thee to the Dunciad for thy pains. 

I have very little doubt that the alteration of the whole 
of this passage was occasioned by a reference to Pope's 
personal deformity which Lord Byron had made in it. 
It is well known that he himself had an evident defect 
in one of his legs, which was shorter than the other, and 
ended in a club foot. On this subject he generally ap- 
peared very susceptible, and sometimes when he was 
first introduced to any one, he betrayed an uncomfort- 
able consciousness of his defect by an uneasy change of 
position; and yet at other times he seemed quite devoid 
of any feeling of the kind, and once I remember that, 
in conversation, he mentioned a similar lameness of an- 
other person of considerable talents, observing, that peo- 
ple born lame are generally clever. This temporary 
cessation of a very acute susceptibility, is a phenomenon 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 25 

of the human mind for which it is difficult to account; 
unless perhaps it be that the thoughts are sometimes 
carried into a train, where, though they cross these ten- 
der cords, the mind is so occupied as not to leave room 
for the jealous feeling which they would otherwise ex- 
cite. Thus, Lord Byron, in the ardour of composition, 
had not time to admit the ideas, which, in a less excited 
moment, would rapidly ha(ve risen in connexion with the 
thought of Pope^s deformity of person; and the greater 
vanity of talent superseded the lesser vanity of person, 
and produced the same effect of deadening his suscep- 
tibility in the conversation to which I allude. 

In Lord Byron's original Satire, the first lines of his 
attack upon Jeffrey, were these — • 

Who has not heard in this enlightened page, 
When all can criticise th' historic age ; 
Who has not heard in James's bigot reign, 
Of Jefferies ! monarch of the scourge and chain ? 

These he erased and began. 

Health tb immortal Jeffrey I once, in name, 
England could boast a judge almost the same ! 

With this exception, and an omission about Mr. Lambe 
towards the end, the whole passage was published as it 
was first composed; indeed, as this seems to have been 
the inspiring object of the Satire, so these lines were 



2Q RECOLLECTIONS OF THE - 

most fluently written, and required least correction af- 
terwards. Respecting the propriety of the note which 
is placed at the end of this passage, I had niuch discus- 
sion with Lord Byron. I vvas anxious that it should 
not be inserted, and I find the reason of my anxiety stat- 
ed in a letter written to him after our conversation on 
the subject. — I here insert the letter, dated February 6, 
1809:— 

'' My dear Lord, 

" I have received your lines,* which shall be in- 
serted in the pioper place. May I say that I question 
whether own and disown be an allowable rhyme .^ 

Translation's servile work at length disown, 
And quit Achaia's muse to court your own. 

You see I cannot let any thing pass; but this only proves 
to you how much I feel interested. 

I have inserted the note on the kilted goddess; still I 
would fain have it omitted. My first objection was, 
that it was a fiction in prose, too wide of fact, and not 
reconcileable with your own praises of Caledonian 
genius. Another objection now occurs to me, of no 
little importance. There seems at present a disposition 
in Scotland to withdraw support from the Edinburgh 
Reviewers: that disposition will favour the circulation of 
your Satire in the north: this note of yours will damp all 

* Those complimenting the translators of the Anthology. 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 21 

ardour for it beyond the Tweed. You have yet time; 
tell me to suppress it when I next have the pleasure of 
seeing you, which will be when I receive the first proof. 
I did hope to be able to bring the proof this morning, 
but the printer could not prepare the paper, &,c. for the 
press till to-day. I am promised one by the day after 
to-morrow. 

I trust you will approve of what I have done with the 
bookseller. He is to be at all the expense and risk, and 
to account for half the profits,* for which he is to have 
one edition of a thousand copies. It would not have 
answered him to have printed only five hundred on these 
terms. I have also promised him that he shall have the 
pubhshing of future editions, if the author chooses to 
continue it; but I told him that I could not dispose of 
the copyright. 

I have no doubt of the Poem being read in every 
quarter of the United Kingdom, provided, however, you 
do not affront Caledonia." 

Lord Byron, in accordance with this letter, sent me a 
choice of couplets to supersede the one to the rhyme of 
which I had objected, 

Though sweet the sound, disdain a borrow'd tone, 
Resign Achaia's lyre, and strike your own ; 

* The whole of the profits were left to the publisher without 

purchase. 



28 RECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

or, 

Though soft the echo, scorn a borrowM tone, 
Resign Achaia's lyre, and strike your own. 

But he protested against giving up his note of notes, as 
he called it, his solitary pmi. I answered him as follows^ 
in a letter dated February 7, 1809: — 

" On another perusal of the objectionable note, I find 
that the omission of two lines only would render it inof- 
fensive — but, as you please. 

I observed to you that in the opening of the Poem 
there appears to be a sudden stop with Dryden. I still 
feel the gap there; and wish you would add a couple of 
lines for the purpose of connecting the sense, saying that 
Otway and Congreve had wove mimic scenes, and 
Waller tuned his lyre to love. If you do, " But why 
these names, &c." would follow well — and it is perhaps 
the more requisite as you lash our presfenf Dramatists.* 

Half Tweed combin'd his waves to form a tear, 

will perhaps strike you, on reconsidering the line, to 
want alteration. You may make the river-god act 

* He inserted the following couplet — 

Then Congreve's scenes could cheer, or Otway's melt. 
For nature th«n an English audience felt. 



LIFE OF LOHD BYRON. 29 

without Witting him in two : you may make him ruffle 
half liis stream to yield a tear.* 

' IIo} Je, whose learned page, &c/ The pronoun is 
an identification of the antecedent Hoyle, which is not 
your meaning — say, JSot he whose learned page, &c. 

Earth's chief dictatress, Ocean's lonely queen" — 

The primary and obvious sense of lonely is solitary, 
which does not preclude the idea of the ocean having 
other queens. You may have some authority for the 
use of the word in the acceptation you here give it, 
but, like the custom in Denmark, I should think it 
more honoured in the breach than the observance. 
Only offers its service; or why not change the epithet 
altogether.'*! 

I mention these little points to you now, because 
there is time to do as you please. I hope to call on you 
to-morrow; if I do not, it will be because I am disap- 
pointed of the proof." 

During the printing of the Satire, my intercourse 
with Lord Byron was not only carried on personally, 
but also by constant notes which he sent me, as differ- 
ent subjects arose in his mind, or different suggestions 
occurred. It was interesting to see how much his 
thoughts were bent upon his Poem, and how that one 

* The line was printed thus — 

Tweed ruffled half his waves to form a tear, 
t He changed it to " mighty." 



30 RECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

object gave a colour to all others that passed before him 
at the time, from which in turn he drew forth subjects 
for his Satire. After having been at the Opera one 
night, he wrote those couplets, begmning, 

Then let Ausonia, skill'd in every art, 

To soften manners, but corrupt the heart, &c. 

and he sent them to me early on the following morn- 
ing, with a request to have them inserted after the lines 
concerning Naldi and Catalani: so also other parts of 
the Satire arose out of other circumstances as they 
passed, and were written upon the spur of the mo- 
ment. 

To the Poem, as I originally received it, he added a 
hundred and ten lines, including those to Mr. Gifford, 
on the Opera, Kirke White, Crabbe, the Translators 
of the Anthology, and Lord Carlisle; and most of the 
address to Mr. Scott towards the conclusion. He once 
intended to prefix an Argument to the Satire, and wrote 
one. I have it, among niany other manuscripts of hisj 
and, as it .becomes a curiosity, I insert it. 

ARGUMENT INTENDED FOR THE SATIRE. 

The poet considereth times past and their, poesy— -maketh a 
sudden transition to times present — is incensed against book- 
makers— revileth W. Scott for cupidity and ballad-mongering, 
•with notable remarks on Master Southey — complaineth that 
Master Southey hath inflicted three poems, epic and otherwise, 
on the public — inveigheth against Wm. Wordsworth, but laudeth 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 3j 

Mr. Coleridge and his elegy on a young ass — is disposed to vitu- 
perate Mr. Lewis — and greatly rebuketh Thomas Little (the late) 
and the Lord Strangford — recommendeth Mr. Hayley to turn his 
attention to prose — and exhorteth the Moravians to glorify Mr. 

Grahan»e — sympalhizeth with the Rev. Bowles — and de- 

ploreth the melancholy fate of Montgomery — breaketh out into 
invective against the Edinburgh Reviewers — cailelh them hard 
names, harpies, and the like — apostrophiseth Jeffrey and pro- 
phesieth — Episode of Jeffrey and Moore, their jeopardy and de- 
liverance ; portents on the morn of the combat ; the Tweed, 
Tolbooth, Frith of Forth severally shocked ; descent of a god- 
dess to save Jeffrey ; incorporation of the bullets with his sinci- 
put and occiput — Edinburgh Reviews en masse — Lord Aberdeen, 
Herbert, Scott, Hallam, PiUans, Lambe, Sydney Smith, 
Brougham, 8cc. — The Lord Holland applauded for dinners and 
translations — The Drama; Skeffington, Hook, Reynolds, Ken- 
ney. Cherry, &c. — Sheridan, Colman, and Cumberland called 
upon to write — Return to poesy — scribblers of all sorts — Lords 
sometimes rhyme ; much better not — Hafiz, Rosa Matilda, and 
X. Y. Z. — Rogers, Campbell, Glfford, &c., true poets — Trans- 
lators of the Greek Anthology — Crabbe — Darwin's style — Cam- 
bridge — Seatonian Prize — Smythe-rHodgson — Oxford — Rich- 
ards — Poeta loquitur— Conclusion. 



KECOLLECTIONS OF THE 



CHAPTER III. 

TAKING HIS SEAT IN THE HOUSE OF LORDS- 
SECOND EDITION OF THE SATIRE— DEPARTURE 
FROM ENGLAND. 



1 NOW saw Lord Byron daily. It was about this time 
that Lord Falkland was killed in a duel, which suggested 
some lines as the Satire was going through the press. 
Nature had endowed Lord Byron with very benevolent 
feelings, which I have had opportunities of discerning, 
and I have seen them at times render his fine counte- 
nance most beautiful. His features seemed formed in a 
peculiar manner for emanatmg the high conceptions of 
genius, and the workings of the passions. 1 have often, 
and with no little admiration, witnessed these effects. 
I have seen them in the glow of poetical inspiration, 
and under the influence of strong emotion; on the one 
hand amounting to virulence, and on the other replete 
with all the expression and grace of the mild and amiable 
affections. When under the influence of resentment 
and anger, it was painful to observe the powerful sway 
of those passions over his features: when he was im- 
pressed with kindness, which was the natural state of 
his heart, it was a high treat to contemplate his coun- 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. gg 

tenance. I saw him the morning after Lord Falkland's 
death. He had just come from seeinoj the lifeless body 
of the man with whom he had a very short time before 
spent a social day: he now and then said, as if it were 
to himself, but aloud, "Poor Falkland!" He looked 
more than he spoke — " But his wife, it is she who is to 
be pitied." I saw his mind teeming with benevolent in- 
tentions — and they were not abortive. If ever an ac- 
tion was pure, that which he then meditated was so; 
and the spirit that conceived, the man that performed it, 
was at that time making his way through briers and 
brambles to that clear but narrow path which leads to 
heaven. Those, who have taken pains to guide him 
from it, must answer for it! 

The remembrance of the impression produced on 
Lord Byron by Lord Falkland's death, at the period I 
am retracing, has excited this slight, but sincere and 
just, effusion; and 1 am sensible that the indulgence of 
it needs no apology. 

The Satire was published about the middle of March, 
previous to which he took his seat in the House of 
Lords, on the l.Sth of the same month. On that day, 
passing down St. James's-street, but with no intention 
of calling, I saw his chariot at his door, and went in. 
His countenance, paler than usual, showed that his mind 
was agitated, and that he was thinking of the nobleman 
to whom he had once looked for a hand and counte- 
nance in his introduction to the House. He said to me 
— " I am glad you happened to come in ; I am going to 



34 RECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

take my seat, perhaps you will go with me." I expres- 
sed my readiness to attend him; while, at the same time, 
I concealed the shock 1 felt on thinking that this yonng 
man, who, by birth, fortune, and talent, stood high in 
life, should have lived so unconnected and neglected by 
persons of his own rank, that there w^as not a single 
member of the senate to which he belonged, to whom 
he could or would apply to introduce him in a. manner 
becoming his birth. I saw that he felt the situation, and 
I fully partook his indignation. If the neglect he had 
met with be imputed to an untoward or vicious disposi- 
tion, a character which he gave himself, and which I 
understood was also given to him by others, it is natural 
to ask, how he came by that disposition, for he got it not 
from Nature.-^ Had he not been left early to himself, 
or rather to dangerous guides and companions, would 
he have contracted that disposition.^ Or even, had na- 
ture been cross, might it not have been rectified? Dur- 
ing his long minority, ought not his heart and his intel- 
lect to have been trained to the situation he was to fill.^ 
Ought he not to have been saved from money-lenders, 
and men of business? And ought not a shield to have 
been placed over a mind so open to impressions, to pro- 
tect it from self-sufficient free-thinkers, and witty sophs? 
The wonder is, not that he should have erred, but that 
he should have broken through the cloud that enveloped 
him, which was dispersed solely by the rays of his own 
genius. 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 35 

After some talk about the Satire, the last sheets of 
which were in the press, I accompanied Lord Byron to 
the House. He was received in one of the antecham- 
bers by some of the officers in attendance, with whom 
he settled respecting the fees he had to pay. One of 
them went to apprize the Lord Chancellor of his being 
there, and soon returned for him. There were very few 
persons in the House. Lord Eldon was going through 
some ordinary business. When Lord Byron enter- 
ed, I thought he looked still paler than before ; and he 
certainly wore a countenance in which mortification was 
mingled with, but subdued by, indignation. He passed 
the woolsack without looking round, and advanced to 
the table where the proper officer was attending to ad- 
minister the oaths. When he had gone through them, 
the Chancellor quitted his seat, and went towards him 
with a smile, putting out his hand warmly to welcome 
him ; and, though I did not catch his words, I saw that 
he paid him some .compliment. This was all thrown 
away upon Lord Byron, who made a stiff bow, and put 
the tips of his fingers into a hand, the amiable offer of 
which demanded the whole of his. I was sorry to see 
this, for Lord Eldon's character is great for virtue, as 
well as talent ; and, even in a political point of view, it 
would have given me inexpressible pleasure to have seen 
him uniting heartily with him. The Chancellor did not 
press a welcome so received, but resumed his seat ; 
while Lord Byron carelessly seated himself for a few 



36 RECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

minutes on one of the empty benches to the left of the 
throne, usually occupied by the Lords in opposition. 
When, on his joining me, I expressed what I had felt, 
he said : " If 1 had shaken hands heartily, he would 
have set me down for one of his party — but I will have 
nothing to do with any of them, on either side ; I have 
taken my seat, and now 1 will go abroad." We return- 
ed to St. James's-street, but he did not recover his spirits. 
The going abroad was a plan on which his thoughts had 
turned for some time ; I did not, however, consider it as 
determined, or so near at hand as it proved. In a few 
days he left town for Newstead Abbey, after seeing the 
last proof of the Satire, and writing a short preface to 
the Poem. In a few weeks I had the pleasure of send- 
ing him an account of its success, in the following letter, 
dated April 17, 1809: 

" The essence of what I have to say was comprised in 
the few lines I wrote to you in the cover of my letter to 
Mr. H*^. Your Satire has had a rapid sale, and the 
publisher thinks the edition will soon be out. However, 
what I have to repeat to you is a legitimate source of 
pleasure, and I request you will receive it as the tribute 
of genuine praise. 

In the first place, notwithstanding our precautions, 
you are already pretty generally known to be the author. 
Sq Cawthorn tells me ; and a proof occurred to, myself 
at Hatchard's, the Queen^s Bookseller. On inquiring for 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 37 

the Satire, he told me that he had sold a great many, 
and had none left, and was going to send lor more, 
which I afterwards found he did ? I asked who was the 
author ? He said it was believed to be Lord Byron's. 
Did he beheve it .'' Yes, he did. On asking the ground 
of his belief, he told me that a lady of distinction had, 
without hesitation, asked for it as Lord Byron's Satire. 
He likewise informed me that he had inquired of Mr. 
Gifford, who frequents his shop, whether it was yours. 
Mr. Gifford denied any knowledge of the author, but 
spoke very highly of it, and said a copy had been sent 
to him. Hatchard assured me that all who came to his 
reading-room admired it. Cawthorn tells me it is uni- 
versally well-spoken of, not only among his own cus- 
tomers, but generally at all the booksellers'. I heard it 
highly praised at my own publishers', where I have 
lately called several times. At Phillips's it was read 
aloud by Pratt to a circle of literary guests, who were 
unanimous in their applause : — The Antijacobin^ as 
well as the Gentleman's Magazine, has already blown 
the trump of fame for you. We shall see it in the other 
Reviews next naonth, and probably in some severely 
handled, according to the Connexions of the proprietors 
and editors with those whom it lashes. I shall not re- 
peat my own opinion to you ; but I will repeat the re- 
quest I once made to you, never to consider me as a flat- 
terer. Were you a monarch, and had conferred on me 
the most munificent favours, ^uch an opinion of me would 



38 RECOLLECTIONS OF THK 

be a signal of retreat, if not of ingratitude : but if you 
think me sincere, and like me to be candid, I shall de- 
light in your fame, and be happy in your friendship." 

The success of the Satire brought him quickly to 
town. He found the edition almost exhausted, and be- 
gan the preparations for another, to which he deter- 
mined to prefix his name. I saw him constantly; and 
in about a fortnight found the Poem completely meta- 
morphosed, and augmented nearly four hundred lines, 
but retaining the whole of the first impression. He 
happily seized on some of the vices which at that junc- 
ture obtruded themselves on the public notice, and add- 
ed some new characters to the list of authors with cen- 
sure or applause. Among those who received the 
meed of praise, it gave nie great pleasure to find my 
excellent friend Waller Rodvvell Wright, whose poem 
"Hora? lonicc'B," was just published.* He allowed me 
to take home with me his manuscripts as he wrote them; 
and so soon as the 10th of May I had a note from him, 
urging that they should be sent to the press. He was 
desirous of hastening the new edition in order that he 
might see the last proofs before he left England; for, 
during his stay at Newstead Abbey, he had arranged 
with Mr, Hobhouse his plan of going abroad early in 
June, but whither, I believe, was not exactly settled; 

* Mr. Wright was, at that time, Recorder of Bury St. Ed- 
munds; and is now in a high judicial situation at Malta. 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 39 

for lie sometimes talked to me of crossing the line, 
sometimes of Persia and India. As 1 perceived the 
new edition not only concluded in a most bitter strain, 
and contained besides a prose postscript in which I 
thought he allowed his feelings to carry him to an ex- 
cess of abuse and defiance that looked more like the 
vaunting ebullition of 

" Some fiery youth of new commission vain 
Who sleeps on brambles till he kills his man," 

than the dignified revenge of genius, I endeavoured to 
prevail upon him to suppress or alter it, as the proofs 
which I corj^^ted passed my hands, but was only able 
to obtain some modification of his. expressions. The 
following letter, which was the last that I wrote to him 
respecting the Satire before he left England, will show 
how strenuous I was on this point, and also the liberty 
which he allowed me to take: 

" Not being certain that I shall see you to-day, I write 
to tell you that I am angry with myself on finding that 
I have more deference for form, than friendship for the 
author of ' English Bards and Scotch Reviewers.' The 
latter prompted me to tear the concluding pages, left at 
Cawthorn's; the former withheld me, and I was weak 
enough to leave the lines to go to the printer. You 
have been so kind as to sacrifice some lines to me be- 
fore. I beseech you to sacrifice these, for in every re- 

Q 



40 KECOLI.ECTIONS OP THE 

spect they injure the Poem, they injure you, and are 
pregnant with what you do not mean. I will not let 
YOU print them. I am going to dine in St. James's- 
place to-day at five o'clock, and in the hope of having 
a battle with you, I will be in St. James's-street about 
four.'' 

Very soon after this the Satire appeared in its new 
form, but too late for its author to enjoy his additional 
laurels before he left England. I was with him almost 
every day while he remained in London. Misanthropy, 
disgust of life leading to scepticism and impiety, pre- 
vailed in his heart and embittered his existence. He 
had for some time past been grossly attacked in several 
low publications, which he bore however with more 
temper than he did the blind headlong assault on his 
genius by the Edinburgh Review. 'Unaccustomed to 
female society, he at once dreaded and abhorred it; 
and spoke of women, such I mean as he neither dread- 
ed nor abhorred, more as playthings than companions. 
As for domestic happiness he had no idea of it. " A 
large family," he said, " appeared like opposite ingre- 
dients mixed perforce in the same salad, and he never 
relished the composition." Unfortunately, having never 
mingled in family circles, he knew nothing of them; 
and, from being at first left out of them by his relations, 
he was so completely disgusted that he avoided them, 
especially the female part. " I consider," said he. 



LIFE OP LORD BYRON. 41 

"collateral ties as the work of prejudice, and not the 
bond of the heart, which must choose for itself un- 
shackled." It was in vain for me to argue that the 
nursery, and a similarity of pursuits and enjoyments in 
early life, are the best foundations of friendship and of 
love ; and that to choose freely, the knowledge of home 
was as requisite as that of wider circles. In those 
wider circles he had found no friend, and but few com- 
panions, whom he used to receive with an assumed 
gaiety, but real indifference at his heart, and spoke of 
with little regard, sometimes with sarcasm. He used 
to talk of one young man, who had been his school- 
fellow, with an affection which he flattered himself was 
returned. I occasionally met this friend at his apart- 
ments, before his last excursion to Newstead. Their 
portraits, by capital painters, were elegantly framed, 
and surmounted with their respective coronets, to be 
exchanged. However, whether taught by ladies in re- 
venge to neglect Lord Byron, or actuated by a frivo- 
lous inconstancy, he gradually lessened the number of 
his calls and their duration. Of this, however, Lord 
Byron made no complaint, till the very day I went to 
take my leave of him, which was the one previous to 
his departure. I found him bursting with indignation. 
"Will you believe it," said he, " I have just met *** 
and asked him to come and sit an hour with me; he 
excused himself; and what do you think was his ex- 
cuse.^ He was engaged with his mother and some ladies 



^2 KECOLLECTIONS OF TttE 

lo go shopping! And he knows I set out to-morrow, to 
be absent for years, perhaps never to returni Friend- 
ship! — I do not believe I shall leave behind me, yourself 
and family excepted, and perhaps my mother, a single 
being who will care .what becomes of me/' 

At this period of his life his mind was full of bitter 
discontent Already satiated with pleasure, and dis- 
gusted with those companions who have no other re- 
source, he had resolved on mastering his appetites; he 
broke up his harams; and he reduced his palate to a 
diet the most simple and abstemious; but the passions of 
the heart were too mighty, nor did it ever enter his mind 
to overcome them,: resentment, anger, and hatred held 
full sway over him, and his greatest gratification at that 
time was in overcharging his pen with gall, which 
flowed in every direction against individuals, his coun- 
try, the world, the universe, creation, and the Creator. 
He might have become, he ought to have been, a 
different creature; and he but too well accounts for the 
unfortunate bias of his disposition in the following 
lines: — 

E'en I — -least thinking of a thoughtless throng, 

Just skilled to know the right and choose the wrong, 

Freed at that age when Reason's shield is lost, 

To fight my course through Passion's countless host; 

Whom every path of Pleasure's flowery way 

Has lured in turn, and all have led astray. 

I took leave of him on the 10th of June, 1809, and he 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 43 

left London the next morning: his objects were still un- 
settled; but he wished to hear from me particularly on 
the subject of the Satire, and promised to inform me 
how to direct to him when he could so with certainty; — 
it was, however, long before I heard from him. After 
some time [ wrote to him; directing, at a chance, to 
Malta, informing him of the success of his Poem. 

Leaving England wiih a soured mind, disclaiming all 
attachments, and even belief in the existence of friend- 
ship, it will be no wonder if it shall be found that Lord 
Byron, during the period of his absence, kept up little 
correspondence with any persons in England. A letter, 
dated at Constantinople, is the only one 1 received from 
him, till he was approaching the shores of England in the 
Volage frigate. To his mother he wrote by every op- 
portunity. Upon her death, which happened very soon 
after his arrival, and before he saw her, I was conversing 
with him about Newstead, and expressing my hope that 
he would never be persuaded to part with it; he assured 
me he would not, and promised to give me a letter which 
he had written to his mother to that effect, as a pledge 
that he never would. His letters to her being at New- 
stead, it was some time before he performed his promise; 
but in doing it he made me a present of all his letters to 
her on his leaving England and during his absence; say- 
ing, as he put them into my hands, " Some day or other 
they will be curiosities." They are written in an easy 



44 RECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

style, and if they do not contain all that is to be expected 
from a traveller, what they do contain of that nature is 
pleasant; and they strongly mark the character of the 
writer. 



UFE OF LORD BYRON, 45 

CHAPTER IV. 

LORD BYRON'S TRAVELS IN 1809, 1810, and 1811. 



The Letters which Lord Byron had thus given to me 
were twenty in namber. They consisted of two short 
ones written from Newstead, at the end of 1808; one 
written from London, in March, 1809; fifteen written 
during his travels from Fahnouth, Gibraltar, Malta, Pre- 
visa, Smyrna, Constantinople, Athens, and Patras, in 
1810 and 1811; one written on boai'd the Volage frigate, 
on his approach to England when returning; and a short 
note from London, to announce his intention of going 
down to Newstead. 

These letters were the only ones Lord Byron wrote 
during his travels, with the single exception of letters of 
business to his agent. Letter-writing was a matter of 
irksome duty to him, but one which he felt himself bound 
to perform to his mother. The letters are sometimes 
long and full of detail, and sometimes short, and mere 
intimations of his good health and progress, according 
as the humour of the moment overcame or not his habi- 
tual reluctance to the task. I cannot but lament that 
any circumstances should deprive the British public of 



46 RECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

such lively and faithful delineations of the mind and 
character of Lord Byron as are to be found in these 
letters. They do not, it is true, contain the informa- 
tion which is usually expected from a talented traveller 
through an interesting country; but they do contain the 
index and guide which enables the reader to travel into 
that more interesting region — the mind and heart of such 
a man as Lord Byron; and though it might be desirable 
that he should have given a fuller description of his 
travels, it is highly satisfactory that he should uncon- 
sciously have left the means of penetrating into the natu- 
ral character- of so singular a being. 

Lord Byron's letters to his mother are more likely to 
furnish these means than any thing else that he has left 
us; because they contain the only natural expression of 
his feelings, freely poured forth in the very circumstances 
that excited them, with no view at the time to obtain or 
keep up a particular character, and therefore with no 
restraint upon his own character. This was never af- 
terwards the case. 

From the moment that the publication of Childe Ha- 
rold's Pilgiimage placed him, as it were, by the wand 
of an enchanter, upon an elevated pedestal in the Tem- 
ple of Fame, he could not write any thing even in fa- 
miliar correspondence, which was not in some degree 
influenced by the idea of supporting a character; espe- 
cially as, after the death of his mother, he had no cor- 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 4 'J' 

respondent to whom he made it a duty, at certain inter- 
vals, to communicate his thoughts. 

It is, therefore, in the natural turn of thought, not 
shown forth by any expression of decided opinions, but 
rather permitted to be seen in the hght touches and un- 
premeditated indications of feehng, with which these 
letters abound, that the original character of Lord By- 
ron is more surely to be traced. I say his original cha- 
racter, because so great an alteration took place at least 
in the degree, if not in the nature of it, after the publi- 
cation of his first great poem, that the traits which might 
give us an insight into his mind at the one period, will 
scarcely afford us ground to form any judgment of it at 
the other. I deeply regret that being prevented from 
making any thing like quotations from these letters, it is 
impossible for me to convey in any adequate degree the 
spirit of the character which they display. 

At Newstead, just before hjs coming of age, he plan- 
ned his future travels; and his original intention included 
a much larger portion of the vv;orld than that which he 
afterwards visited. He first thought of Persia, to which 
idea indeed he for a long time adhered. He afterwards 
meant to sail for India; and had so far contemplated this 
project as to write for information from the Arabic Pro- 
fessor at Cambridge, and to ask his mother to inquire 
of a friend who had lived in India, what things would be 
necessary for his voyage. He formed his plan of tra- 
velHng upon very different grounds from those which he 

R 



48 RECOLLEC'I'IONS OF THE 

afterwards advanced. All men should travel at one 
time or another, he thought, and he had then no con- 
nexions to prevent him; when he returned he might en- 
ter into political life, for which travelling would not in- 
capacitate him, and be wished to judge of men by ex- 
perience. He had been compared by some one to 
Rousseau, but he. disclaimed any desire to resemble so 
illustrious a lunatic; though he wished to live as much 
by himself and in his own way as possible. 

While at Newstead at this time, and in contemplation 
of his intended departure, he made a will which he 
meant to have formally executed as soon as he came of 
age. In it he made a proper provision for his mother, 
bequeathing her the manor of Newstead for her life. 
How different a will from that which, with so different 
a mind and heart, he really executed seven years after- 
wards! 

A short time after this a proposal was made to him 
by his man of business to sell Newstead Abbey, which 
made his mother uneasy upon the subject. To set her 
mind at ease he declared, in the strongest terms, that 
his own fate and Newstead were inseparable; stating, 
at the same time, the fittest and noblest reasons why he 
should never part with Newstead, and affirming that the 
finest fortune in the country should not purchase it from 
him. The letter in which he had written his sentiments 
on this subject, was that which he gave to me to keep 
as a pledge that he never would dispose of Newstead. 



LIFE OP LORD BYRON. 49 

Nor was it, indeed, until he had abandoned himself to 
the evil influence which afterwards beset him, that he 
forgot his solemn promise to his mother, and the pledge 
of honour which he voluntarily put into my hands, and 
then bartered the last vestige of the inheritance of his 
family. 

He left London in June, 1809; and his acute sensi- 
bility being deeply wounded at his relation's conduct 
when taking liis seat in the House of Lords, and by 
the disappointment he had experienced on parting with 
the friend whom he had believed to be so affectionately 
attached to him, he talked of a regretless departure from 
the shores of EngFand, and said he had no wish to revisit 
any thing in it, except his mother* and Newstead Ab- 
bey. The state of his affairs annoyed him also much. 
He had consented to the sale of his estate in Lanca- 
shire, and if it did not produce what he expected, or 
what would be sufficient for his emergencies, he thought 
of entering into some foreign service; the Austrian, the 
Russian, or even the Turkish, if he liked their manners. 
Among his suite was a German servant, who had been 
already in Persia with Mr. Wilbraham, and a lad whom 
he took with him, because he thought him, like himself, 
a friendless creature; and to the few regrets that he had 
felt on leaving his native country, his heart made him 
add that of parting with an old servant, whose age pre- 
vented his master from hoping to see him again. 

The objects that he met with in his journey as far as 
Gibraltar, seemed to have occupied his mind, to the ex 



50 



RECOLLECTIONS OF THE 



elusion of his gloomy and misanthropic thoughts; for 
the letter which he wrote to his mother from thence con- 
tains no indication of them, but, on the contrary, much 
playful description of the scenes through which he had 
passed. The beautiful Stanzas, from the 16th to the 
30th of the fust Canto of Childe Harold's Pilgriutage, 
are the exact echoes of the thoughts which occurred to 
his mind at the time, as he went over the spot described. 
In going into the library of the convent of Mafra the 
monks conversed with him in Latin, and asked him 
whether the English had any books in their country. 
From Mafra he went to Seville, and was not a little sur- 
prised at the excellence of the horses and roads in 
Spain, by which he was enabled to travel nearly four 
hundred miles in four days, without fatigue or annoy- 
ance. 

At Seville Lord Byron lodged in the house of two 
unmarried ladies, one of whom, however, was going to 
be married soon; and though he remained there only 
three days she did not scruple to pay him the most par- 
ticular attentions, which, as they were women of cha- 
racter, and mixing in society, rather astonished him. 
His Sevillean hostess embraced him at parting with great 
tenderness, cutting of a lock of his hair and presenting 
him with a very long one of her own, which he for- 
warded to his mother in his next letter. With this spe- 
cimen of Spanish female manners, he proceeded to Ca- 
diz, where various incidents occurred to hjm calculated 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 51 

to confirm the opinion he had formed at Seville of the 
Andalusian belles, and which made him leave Cadiz 
with regret, and determine to return to it. 

Lord Byron kept no journal; while his conipanion, 
Mr. Hobhouse, was occupied without ceasing in making 
notes. His aversion to letter-writing also occasions 
great chasms in the only account that can be obtained 
of his movements from himself He wrote, however, 
to his mother from Malta, merely to announce his safety; 
and forwarded the letter by Mrs. Spencer Smith, whose 
eccentric character and extraordinary situation very 
much attracted his attention. He did not write again 
until November, 1809, from Previsa. 

Upon arriving at Yanina, Lord Byron found that All 
Pacha was with his troops in Illyricnm besiegino; Ibra- 
him Pacha in Berat; but the Vizier, having heard that 
an English nobleman was in his country, had given or- 
ders at Yanina to supply him with every kind of accom- 
modation free of all expense. Thus he was not allowed 
to pay for any thing whatever, and was forced to con- 
tent himself with making presents to the slaves. F.om 
Yanina he went to Tepaleen, a journey of nine days, 
owing to the autumnal torrents which retarded his pro- 
gress. The scene which struck him upon entering Te- 
paleen, at the time of the sun's setting, recalled to his 
mind the description of Branksome Castle, in S( oti's 
Lay of the Last Minstrel. The different objects which 
presented themselves to his view when arriving at the 



52 RECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

Pacha's palace, — the Albanians in their superb costume 
— the Tartars and the Turks with their separate pecu- 
liarities of dress — the row of two hundred horses, ready 
caparisoned, waiting in a large open gallery — the cou- 
riers which the stirring interest of the neighbouring 
siege made to pass in and out constantly — the military 
music — the boys repeating the hour from the Minaret 
of the Mosque, — are all faithfully and exactly described 
as he saw them, in the 55th and following stanzas, to 
the 60th of the second Canto of Cliilde Harold's Pil- 
grimage. 

He was lodged in the palace, and the next day intro- 
duced to Ali Pacha. — Ali said, that the English minister 
had told him that Lord Byron's family was a great one: 
and he desired him to give his respects to his mother, 
which his Lordship faithfully delivered immediately. 
The Pacha declared that he knew him to be a man of 
rank from the smallness of his ears, his curling hair, and 
his little white hands; and told him to consider himself 
under his protection as that of a father while he remain- 
ed in Turkey, as he looked on him as his son; and, in- 
deed, he showed how much he considered him as a child, 
by sending him sweetmeats, and fruit, and nice things 
repeatedly during the day. 

In going in a Turkish ship of war, provided for him 
by Ali Pacha, from Previsa, intending to sail for Patras, 
Lord Byron was very nearly lost in but a moderate gale 
of wind, from the ignorance of the Turkish officers and 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 53 

sailors — the wind, however, abated, and they were driven 
on the coast of SuH. . The confusion appears to have 
been very great on board the galliot, and somewhat add- 
ed to by the distress of Lord Byron's valet, Fletcher, 
whose natural alarms upon this, and other occasions; 
and his untravelled requirements of English comforts, 
such as tea, &c., not a little amused his master, and 
were frequently the subject of good-humoured jokes 
with him. An instance of disinterested hospitality, in 
the chief of a Suliote village, occurred to Lord Byron 
in consequence of his disasters in the Turkish galliot. 
The honest Albanian, after assisting him in the distress 
in which he found himself, supplying his wants, and 
lodging him and his suite, consisting of Fletcher, a Greek, 
two Athenians, a Greek priest, and his companion, Mr. 
Hobhouse, refused to receive any remuneration; and 
only asked him for a written acknowledgment that he 
had been well-treated. When Lord Byron pressed him 
to take money, he said, " I wish you to love me, not to 
pay me." 

At Yanina, on his»rleturn, he was introduced to Rus- 
sian Bey and Mahmoul Pacha, two young grandchildren 
of Ali Pacha, very unlike lads, having painted faces, 
large black eyes, and regular features. They were 
nevertheless very pretty, and already instructed in all 
the court ceremonies. Mahmout, the younger, and he 
were friends without understanding each other, like a 
great many* other people, though for a different reason. 



54 RECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

Lord Byron wrote several times to his mother from 
Smyrna, from whence he went in the Salsette frigate to 
Constantinople. It was while this frigate was lying at 
anchor in the Dardanelles, that he swam from Sestos to 
Abydos, — an exploit which he seemed to have remem- 
bered ever after with very great pleasure, repeating it 
and referring to it in no Icvss than live of his letters to his 
mother, and in the only two letters he wrote to me while 
he was away. 

It was not until after Lord Byron arrived at Constan- 
tinople that he decided not to go on to Persia, but to 
pass the following summer in the Morea. At Constan- 
tinople, Mr. Hobhouse left him to return to England, 
and by him he wrote to me and to his mother. He 
meant also to have sent back his man, Fletcher, with 
Mr. Hobhouse ; as, however good a servant in England, 
he found him an incumbrance in his progress. Lord 
B>ron had now tasted the delights of travelling ; he had 
seen much both of country and of mankind ; he had 
neither been disappointed nor disgusted with what he 
had met with ; and though he had passed many a fa- 
tiguing, he had never spent a tedious hour. This led him 
to fear that these feelings might excite in him a gipsy- 
like wandering disposition, which woidd make him un- 
comfortable at home, knowing such to be frequently the 
case with men in the habit of travelling. He had mixed 
with persons in all stations in life, had lived amongst the 
most splendid, and sojourned with the poorest, and found 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 55 

the people harmless and hospitable. He had passed 
some time with the principal Greeks in the Morea and 
Livadia, and he classed them as inferior to the Turks, 
but superior to the Spaniards, whom he placed before 
the Portuguese. At Constantinople, his judgment of 
Lady Mary Wortley was, that she had not overstepped the 
truth near so much as would have been done by any 
other woman under similar circumstances ; but he dif- 
fered from her when she said " St. Paul's would cut a 
strange figure by St. Sophia's." He felt the great in- 
terest which St. Sophia's possesses from various consi- 
derations, but he thought it by no means equal to some 
of the Mosques, and-not to be written on the same leaf 
with St. Paul's. According to his idea, the Cathedral 
at Seville was superior to both, or to any religious edifice 
he knew. He was enchanted with the magnificence of 
the walls of the city, and the beauty of the Turkish bury- 
ing grounds ; and he looked with enthusiasm at the pros- 
pept on each side from the Seven Towers, to the end of 
the Golden Horn. 

When Lord Byron had lost his companion at Con- 
stantinople, he felt great satisfaction at being once more 
alone; for his nature led him to solitude, and his dispo- 
sition towards it increased daily. There were many 
men there and in the Morea who wished to join him; 
one to go to Asia, another to Egypt. But he preferred 
going alone over his old track, and to look upon his old 
objects, the seas and the mountains, the only acquaint" 



56 RECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

ances that improved upon him. He was a good deal 
annoyed at this juncture by the persevering silence of 
his man of business, from whom he had never once 
heard since his departure from England, in spite of the 
critical situation of hi« atfairs; and yet, it is remarkable 
with how much patience he bore with circumstances, 
which certainly were calculated to excite the anger of 
one of less irritable disposition than his own. 

Whether it were owing to his having been left alone 
to his own reflections, or whether it be merely attribut- 
able to the uneven fluctuations of an unsettled mind, it 
appears that Lord Byron's thoughts at this time had 
some tendency towards a recovery from the morbid state 
of moral apathy which upon some important points he 
had evinced. He felt the advantage of looking at man- 
kind in the original, and not in the picture — of reading 
themselves, instead of the account of them in books; he 
saw the disadvantageous results of remaining at home 
with the narrow prejudices of an islander, and wished 
that the youth of our country were forced by law to visit 
our allied neighbours. He had conversed with French, 
Italians, Germans, Danes, Greeks, Turks, Armenians, 
&c. &c., and without losing sight of his ow n nation, 
could form an estimate of the countries and manners of 
others; but, at the same time, he felt gratified when he 
found that England was superior in any thing. This 
shows the latent spark of patriotism in his heart. 

He wished when he returned to England to lead a 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 57 

quiet and retired life; in thinking of which, his mind 
involuntarily acknowledged that God knew, but arranged 
the best for us all. This acknowledgment seemed to 
call forth the remembrance of his acquired infidelity; 
znd, for the sake of consistency, he qualified it by giving 
it as the general belief, and he had nothing to oppose to 
such a doctrine, as upon the whole he could not com- 
plain of bis own lot. He was convinced that njankind 
did more harm to themselves than Satan could do to 
them. These are singular assertions for Lord Byron, 
and show that, at that time at least, his mind was in a 
state which might have admitted of a ditferent result 
than that which unhappily followed. 

1 have already said, that Lord Byron took no notes of 
his travels, and he did not intend to publish any thing 
concerning them; but it is curious that, while he was 
in Greece, he made a determination that he would pub- 
lish no more on any subject — he would appear no more 
as an author — he was quite satisfied, if by his Satire he 
had shown to the critics and the world that he was 
something above what they supposed him to be, nor 
would he hazard the reputation that work might have 
procured him by publishing again. He had, indeed, 
otlfer things by him, as the event proved ; but he re- 
solved, that if they were worth giving to the public, it 
should be posthumously, that the reniembrance of him 
might be continued when he could no longer remember. 

Previous to his return to England, the proposal to 



58 RECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

sell Newstead was renewed. His mother again showed 
her feeling upon the subject. His own feelings and 
determinations were unchanged. If it was necessary 
that money should be procured by the sale of land, he 
was willing to part with Rochdale. He sent Fletcher 
to England with papers to that effect. He, besides, 
had no reliance on the funds; but the main point of his 
objection to the proposal was, that tlie only thing that 
bound him to England was Newstead — if by any extra- 
ordinary event he should be induced to part with it, he 
was resolved to pags his life abroad. The expenses of 
living in the East, with all the advantages of climate 
and abundance of luxury, were trifling in comparison 
with what was necessary for competence in England. 
He was resolved that Newstead should not be sold: he 
had fixed upon the alternative — If Newstead remained 
with him, he would come back — if not, he never 
would. 

Lord Byron returned to England in the Volage fri- 
gate, on the 2d July, 1811, after having been absent 
two years exactly to a day. He experienced very simi- 
lar feelings of indifference in approaching its shores, to 
those with which he had left them. 'His health had not 
suffered, though it had been interrupted by two sh^rp 
fevers; he had, however, put himself entirely upon a 
vegetable diet, never taking either fish or flesh, and 
drinking no wine. 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 59 



CHAPTER V. 

RETURN TO ENGLAND— HINTS FROM HORACE- 
HIS OPINION OF CHILDE HAROLD'S 
PILGRIMAGE. 



Early in July, 1811, I received a letter from Lord 
Byron, written on board the Volage frigate, at sea, on 
the 28th of June, in which, after informing me of his 
approaching return, he shortly recapitulates the princi- 
pal countries he has travelled through, and does not for- 
get to mention his swimming from Sestos to Abydos. 
He expected little pleasure in coming home, though he 
brought a spirit still unbroken. He dreaded the trou- 
ble he should have to encounter in the arrangement of 
his affairs. His Satire wag at that time in the fourth 
edition; and at that period, being able to think and act 
more coolly, he affected to feel sorry that he had written 
it. This was, however, an inmiense sacrifice to a 
vague sense of propriety, as is clear from his having 
even then in his possession an imitation of Horace's 



go RECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

Art of Poetry, ready for the press, which was nothing 
but a continuation of the Satire; and also from the sub- 
sequent preparation of a fifth edition of the very work 
which he professed to regret having written. 

Lord Byron frequently exercised his wit upon the 
subject of a young man of the name of Blackett — so 
poor that he worked in a garret, as a shoemaker, and 
did not procure sutficient employment to make hfe tole- 
rably comfortable; in spite of which be married, and 
had children. In his unoccupied hours he made verses 
as well as shoes. Some of these found their way into 
the hands of Mr. Pratt, himself a successful writer, 
whose benevolence and enthusiasm always equalled, and 
sometimes outstripped, his judgment. He immediately 
saw latent genius in those essays of an uneducated man, 
sought him, became confirmed in the opinion he had 
formed, and, doubly excited by the miserable state in 
which he found him, resolved to do him all the service 
that his pen and influence could eflfect publicly and pri- 
vately. He collected a volume of his writings sufficient 
to form the foundation of a subscription, which soon 
became so ample as to lower him from his attics. Pratt 
then persuaded Mr. Elliston, the actor, to be among 
his applauders and protectors. I remember hearing 
Mr. Elliston speak of a dramatic production of Black- 
ett's with infinite ardour, and of the author as a won- 
derful genius. I do not, however, think that he ever 
produced the piece. Other patrons and patronesses 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. Q j 

appeared; and it is a curious incident that one of the 
latter, then a perfect stranger to Lord Byron, should 
afterwards become his wife. That lady and her parents 
were very kind to Blackett; invited him, as I was in- 
formed, to the country where their estates lie, and ac- 
commodated him witli a cottage to reside in. The pour 
fellow's constitution, either originally weak, or under- 
mined by the hardships of poverty, failed him at a very 
early period of life. After some stay at the cottage, he 
was advised to go and breathe the air of his native place, 
though situated more to the north. There, for a short 
time, he comforted his mother, and was comforted by 
her, and by the benevolent attentions Of several kind 
physicians. Upon his death, Mr' Pratt collected all 
his additional compositions; and, adopting the title 
which Mr. Southey had given to the works of Kirk 
White, published the whole of his writings together as 
" The Remains of Joseph Blackett,'' by which another 
considerable collection was made, and formed into a 
fund for the support of Blackett's surviving daughter. 

Genius, we well know, is not the exclusive inheri- 
tance of the affluent, but without a considerable degree 
of education it has not the means of displaying itself, 
especially in poetry, where the flowers of language are 
almost as essential as the visions of fancy. Rhetoric 
and grammar are not necessary in mechanics and ma- 
thematics, but they must be possessed by the Poet, whose 
title to genius may be overturned by the confusion of 



62 RECOLLECTIONS OF TUE 

metaphors and the incongruities of tropes. I believe 
all the Poets of low origin partook, more or less, of 
the advantages of education. The last of these was 
Kirke White, whose learning and piety, however, I al- 
ways thought far superior to his poetical nerve. Biackett 
was deficient in common learning. I had more pleasure 
in observing the improvement of his condition than in 
the perusal of his writings; though, in spite of the ridi- 
cule of Lord Byron, and my Ionian friend, as Lord By- 
ron called Waller Wright, I saw, or was persuaded by 
Mr. Pratt's warmth to see, some sparkling of genius in 
the effusions of this young man. It was upon this that 
Lord Byron and a young friend of his were sometimes 
playful in conversation; and, in writing to me, "I see,^' 
says the latter " that Biackett the Son of Crispin and 
Apollo is dead. Looking into Boswell's Life of John- 
son the other day, I saw, ' We were talking about the 
famous Mr. Wordsworth, the poetical Shoemaker;' — 
Now, I never before heard that there had been a Mr. 
Wordsworth a Poet, a Shoemaker, or a famous man; 
and I dare say you have never heard of him. Thus it 
will be with Bloomfield and Biackett — their names two 
years after their death will be found neither on the rolls 
of Curriers' Hall nor of Parnassus. Who would think 
that any body would be such a blockhead as to sin 
against an express proverb, 'Ne sutor ultra crepidam!* 

But spare him, ye Critics, his follies are past, 
For the Cobler is come, as he ought, to his lasi. 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. gg 

Which two lines, with a scratch under last, to shew 
where the joke lies, I beg that you will prevail on Miss 
Milbank to have inserted on the tomb of her departed 
Blackett." In my reply, I said, "With respect to 
Blackett, whatever you may think of his presumption in 
attempting to ascend Parnassus, you cannot blame him 
for descending from a garret to a drawing-room; for 
changing starvation and misery for good food and flat- 
tering attention; an unwilling apothecary, for physicians 
rivalling one another in solicitude and disinterested at- 
tendance; which change, I can assure you, is nothing 
more than literal truth." This produced the following 
rejoinder: " You seem to me to put Blackett's^ase quite 
in the right light: — to be sure any one would rise if he 
could, and any one has a right to make the effort; but 
then any one, on the other hand, has a right to keep 
the aspirant down if he thinks the man's pretensions 
ill-founded. I do not laugh at Blackett, but at those 
who flattered him. He, poor fellow, was perfectly right, 
if he could find protectors, to gain them, either by verse- 
making or shoe-making. Indeed, he was right in trying 
the former, as by far the most easy and expeditious of 
the two. Were a regular bred author, a gentleman of 
education, to write like them, their verses would not be 
tolerated. But every one is in a stare of admiration 
that a cobler or a tinker should be able to rhyme at all 
We gaze at them, not at their poetry, which is like the 
crabs found in the heart of a rock: 



(J4 KKCOLI-ECTIONS OF THE 

' The tliiiip; wc know is ncillK-r r'u h nor rave, 
Hut wonder how the ilcvil it got there' 

Some applaud liie prodigy out of sheer bad taste; tliey 
do not know tliat his nonsense is nonsense; others out 
of pure hiunanity and goodness of heart. The first are 
such people as Prait and Capel LolFl: the second, such 
critics as yourself, my dear Sir. IJut this is, as I said 
before, a piece of injustice to men of education, who 
may sweat, strain, and labour, and, when they have 
done their best, hear their own qualitUations quoted 

against them: — The world says, 'Mr. ought to 

have known better — J wonder a man of his education 
should i^u\ so wretchedly.' You must not bring G * * 
against me, nor a much greater man, Burns, because 
the one was a cobler, and the other a ploughman: for, 
reading their verses, we never think of the poet; no, 
we oidy are intent upon and admire the poetry; which 
would have delighted us had it been written by Dryden, 
or Gay, or any other great name. In the other case, 
we ought to content ourselves with saying, ' There goes 
a wonderful cobler.' It is folly and falsehood to say, 
' Look at that poet, he was a cobler once.' It is very 
true that he was a cobler once; but it is not true that 
he is a poet now. Shall I tell you, however, to what 
the reputation of this sort of men is owing.* Doubtless 
it is to the vanity of those who choose to set up for pa- 
trons, and who, because men of sense and character 



LIFE OP LORD BYRON. g5 

would scorn their protection, look out for little spark- 
lings of talent in the depth and darkness of cellars and 
stalls, and having popped upon something to their mind, 
stamp it with their own seal of merit to pass current 
with the world. You know a man of true genius will 
not suffer himself to«be patronized; but a patron is the 
life and soul and existence of your surprising fellows. 
The only legitimate patroji is the respectable bookseller, 
and he will not take a cobler's verses, unless they are 
brought to him by some Maecenas who will promise to 
run all risks." 

Upon receiving Lord Byron's letter from on-board 
the Volage, I wrote him the following: — 

• 

"1 called this morning at Reddish's Hotel, with the 
hope of hearing something of you, since which your let- 
ter, written at sea, has been delivered to me. On Mon- 
day I trust I shall have the pleasure of welcoming you 
in person back to England. I hope you will find more 
pleasure in it than you seem to promise yourself. I pity 
you indeed for the bustle that awaits you in the arrange- 
ment of your affairs. I wish you would allow me to re- 
conmiend to you a gentleman whom I have long known; 
a man of the strictest honour; a man of business; and 
one of the best accountants in the kingdom. He would, 
I am confident, save you a world of trouble and. a world 
of money. I know how much he has done for others, 



(J(j RECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

who, biit for him, would have been destroyed by the 
harpies of extortion. I will tell you more of him when 
ue meet, unless you should think I have already taken 
sufficient liberty, in which case 1 should only beg you 
to forget it for the sake of my intention. I rejoice to 
hear that you are prepared for the press. I hope to 
have you in pro's^ as well as verse by and by. You will 
find your Satire not forgotten by the public: it is going 
fast through its fourth edition, and I cannot call that a 
middling run. Some letters have passed between Hob- 
house and me. His account of my son was truly gra- 
tifying to me. He is a fortunate lad. I wish you had 
touched at Cadiz, in your way home. George Byron 
and he I find are in correspondence." 

On the 15th of July I had the pleasure of shaking 
hands with him at Rcddish's Hotel, in St. James's-street. 
I thought his looks belied the report he had given me 
of his bodily health, and his countenance did not beto- 
ken melancholy, or displeasure at his return. He was 
very animated in the account of his travels, but assured 
me he had never had the least idea of writing- them. He 
said he believed satire to be his forte, and to that he had 
adhered, having written, during his stay at different 
places abroad, a paraphrase of Horace's Art of Poetry, 
which would be a good finish to English Bards and 
Scotch Reviewers; forgetting the regret which, in his 
last letter, he had expressed to me for having written it. 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. g7 

He seemed to promise himself additional fame from it, 
and I undertook to superintend its publication, as I had 
done that of the Satire. I had chosen the hour ill for 
my visit, and we had hardly any time to converse unin- 
terrupted!} ; he therefore engaged me to breakfast with 
him the next morning. In the mean time I looked over 
the Paraphrase, which I had taken home with me, and 
I must say I was grievously disappointed. Not that the 
verse was bad, or the images of the Roman poet badly 
adapted to the limes; but a muse much inferior to his 
might have produced them in the smoky atmosphere of 
London, whereas he had been roaming under the cloud- 
less skies of Greece, on sites where every step he took 
might have set such a fancy as hi^ " in fine phrenzies 
rolling." But the poem was his, and the affection he 
had acquired in my heart was undiminished. 

The following lines are inserted as a fair specimen 
of it. It began thus: — 

" Who would not laugh, if Lawrence, hir'd to grace 
His costly canvass with each flatter'd face, 
Abus'd his art, till Nature with a blush 
Saw Cits grow Centaurs underneath his brush ? 
Or should some limner join, for show or sale, 
A maid of honour to a mermaid's tail ; 
Or low D*** (as once the world has seen) 
Degrade God's creature's in his graphic spleen — 
Not all that forced politeness which defends 
Fools in their faults, could gag his grinning friends. 



65 KECOI.LECTIONS OF THE 

Believe me, Mosohus, like that picture seem* 
The book which, sillier than a sick man's dreams, 
Displays a crowd of figures incomplete, 
Poetic night-mares without head or feet. 



Poets and painters, as all artists know, 
May shoot a little with a lengthen'd bow ; 
We claim this mutual mercy for our task, 
^nd grant in turn the pardon which we ask ; 
But make l}^^ monsters spring from gentle dams — 
Birds breed not vipers, tigers nurse not lambs. 

A laboured long exordium sometimes tends 
(Like patriot speeches) but to paltry ends ; 
And nonsense in a lofty note goes down^ 
As pertness passes with a legal gown : 
Thus many a bard describes in pompous strain 
The clear brook babbling through the goodly plain; 
The groves of Granta, and her Gothic halls. 
King's Coll. — Cam's stream— stain'd windows, and old 

walls ; 
Or in advent'rous numbers neatly aims 
To paint a rainbow, or — the river Thames.* 

You sketch a tree, and so perhaps may shine; 
But daub a shipwreck like an alehouse sign : 
Why place a Vase, which dwindling to a Pot, 
You glide down Grub-street, fasting and forgot ? 
Laughed into Lethe by some quaint review, 
Whose wit is never troublesome — till true. 

» " Where pure description holds the place of sense." — Pom 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 69 

In fine, to whatsoever you aspire, 
Let it at least be simple and entire. 
The greater portion of the rhyming tribe 
(Give ear, my friend, for thou hast been a scribe) 
Are led astray by some peculiar lure ; 
I labour to be brief — become obscure : 
One feeds while following elegance too fast ; 
Another soars — inflated with bombast : 
Too low a third crawls on — afraid to fly, 
He spins his subject to satiety; 
Absurdly varying, he at last engraves 
Fish in the woods, and boars beneath the waves I 

Unless your care's exact, your judgment nice. 
The flight from folly leads but into vice: 
None are complete, all wanting in some part, 
Like certain tailors, limited in art — 
For coat and waistcoat Slowshears is your man ; 
But breeches claim another artisan.* — 
Now this to me, I own, seems much the same 
As Vulcan's feet to bear Apollo's frame ; 
Or, with a fair complexion, to expose 
Black eyes, black ringlets, and a bottle nose I 

Dear authors ! suit your topics to your strength. 
And ponder well your subject and its length ; 
Nor lift your load until you're quite aware 
What weight your shoulders will or will not bear ; 

• Mere common mortals were commonly content with one tailor and one 
bill ; but the more finished gentlemen found it impossible to confide their 
lower garments to the makers of their body-clothes. I speak of the be- 
ginning of 1809 ; what reform may have since taken place I neither know 
nor desire to know. 



70 KECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

But lucid Order and Wit's siren voice 
Await the poet skilful in his choice ; 
With native eloquence he soars along, 
Grace in his thoughts and music in his song. — 
Let judgment teach him wisely to combine 
With future parts the now omitted line : 
This shall the author choose, or that reject 
Precise in style, and cautious to select. 

Nor slight applause will candid pens afford 
The dex'trous coiner of a wanting word. 
Then fear not, if 'tis needful, to produce 
Some term unknown, or obsolete in use : 
As Pitt* has furnished us a word or two. 
Which Lexicographers declined to do ; 
So you, indeed, with care (but be content 
To take this license rarely) may invent. 

New words find credit in these latter days, 
Adroitly grafted on a Gallic phrase ; 
What Chaucer, Spenser did, we scarce refuse 
To Dryden's or to Pope's maturer muse. 
If you can add a little, say, why not. 
As well as William Pitt, and Walter Scott ? 
Since they by force of rhyme and force of lungs, 
Enriched our island's ill-united tongues ; 
'Tis then — and shall be — lawful to present 
Reforms in writing as in Parliament. 

As forests shed their foilage by degrees, 
So fade expressions, which in season please ; 

* Mr. Pitt was liberal in his additions to our Parliamentary Tongue, as 
may be seen in many publications, particularly the Edinburgh Review. 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. ^l 

And we and ours, alas, are due to fate, 

And \yorks and words but dwindle to a date. 

Though as a monarch nods, and commerce calls. 

Impetuous' rivers stagnate in canals; 

Though swamps subdued, and marshes dried, sustain 

The heavy ploughshare, and the yellow grain ; 

And rising ports, along the busy shore, 

Protect the vessel from old Ocean's roar; 

All, all must perish — but, surviving last, 

The love of letters half preserves the past : — 

Thus future years dead volumes shall revive, 

And those shall sink which now appear to thrive,* 

As custom arbitrates, whose shifting sway 

Our life and language must alike obey. 

The immortal wars which Gods and angels wage, 
Are they not shown in Milton's sacred page ? 
His strain will teach what numbers best belong 
To them€s celestial told in Epic song. 

The slow sad stanza will correctly j)aint 
The lover's anguish, or the friend's complaint; 
But which deserves the laurel— rliyme — or blank ? 
Which holds on Helicon the higher rank ? 
Let squabbling critics by themselves dispute 
This point, as puzzling as a chancery suit. 
Satiric rhyme first sprang from selfish spleen; 
You doubt — see Dryden, Pope, St. Patrick's DEAN.f 

• Old ballads, old.plays, and old women's stories, are at present in as 
much request as old wine or newspapers : in fact, this is the millennium of 
)lack-Ietter ; thanks to our Wemeus and Scotts! 

t M'Flecknoe, much of the Dunciad, and all Swift's lampooning ballads. 

U 



•72 RECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

Blank verse is now with one consent allied 
To tragedy, and rarely quits her side : 
Though mad Almanzor rhym'd in Dryden's daysj 
No sing-song hero rants in mqdern plays; • * 
While modest comedy her verse foregoes, 
To jest and/iuji* in very middling prose : 
Not that our Bens o.r Beaumonts show the worse. 
Or lose one poitit because they wrote in verse : 
But so Thalia ventures to appear — 
Poor Virgin ! damned some twenty times a-year. 



'Tis hard to venture where our betters fail, 
Or lend fresh interest to a twice-told tale. 
And yet, perchance, 'tis wiser to prefer 
A hackneyed plot, than choose a new, and err. 
Yet copy not too closely, but record 
More justly thought for thought, than word for word 
Nor trace your prototype through narrow ways, 
But only follow where he merits praise. 
For you, young bard, whom luckless fate may lead 
To tremble on the nod of all who read, 
Ere your first score of Cantos tome unrolls. 
Beware — for God's sake don't begin like Bowles If 

* With all the vulgar applause and critical abhorrence o{ puns, they have 
Aristotle on their side, who permits them to orators, and gives them conse- 
quence by a grave disquisition. 

f About two years ago, a young man, named Townsend, was announced 
by Mr. CtrMBEiiLANu (in a Review since deceased) as being engaged in an 
epic poem, to be entitled "Armageddon." The plan and specimen promise 
much ; but I hope neither to offend Mr. T. or his friends, by recommend- 
ing to his attention the lines of Horace to which these rhymes allude. If 
Mr, T. succeeds in his undertaking, as there is reason to hope, how much 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 73 

"Awake a louder and a loftier strain*' — 
And pray — what follows from his boiling brain ? 
He sinks to Southey's level in a trice, 
Whose Epic mountains never fail in mice. 
Not so of yore awoke your mighty sire 
The tempered warblings of his master lyre. 
Soft as the gentler breathing of the lute, 
*' Of man's first disobedience and the fruit" 
He speaks, but as his subject swells along, 
Earth, heaven, and Hades echo with the song. 
Still to the midst of things he hastens on, 
As if we witnessed all already done ; 

will the world be indebted to Mr. Cumberland for bringing him before the 
public. But till the eventful day arrives, it may be doubted whether the 
premature display of his plan (sublime as the ideas confessedly are) has not, 
by raising expectation too high, or diminishing curiosity by developing his 
argument, rather incurred the hazard of injuring Mr. T.'s future prospects. 
Mr. Cumberland (whose talants I shall not depreciate by the humble tribute 
of my praise) and Mr. T. must not suppose me actuated by unworthy 
motives in this suggestion. I wish the author all the success he can wish 
himself, and shall be truly happy to see epic poetry weighed up from the 
bathos where it lies sunken with Southey, Cottle, Cowley, (Mrs. or Abra- 
ham) Ogllvie, Wilkie, Page, and all the " dull of past and present days." 
Even if he is not a Milton, he may be better than a Blackmore ; if not a 
Homer, an Antimachus. I should deem myself presumptuous, as a youn^ 
man, in offering advice, were it not addressed to one still younger. Mr. T. 
has the greatest difficulties to encounter ; but in conquering them he will 
find employment — in having conquered them — his reward. I know too 
well the " scribbler's scoff, the critic's contumely," and I am afraid time will 
t^ach Mr. T. to know them better. Those who succeed and those who do 
not must bear this alike, and it is hard to say which have most of it. I 
trust that Mr. Townsend's share will be from envy ,- he will soon know 
mankind well enough not to attribute this expression to malice. 

The above note wias written before the author was apprised of Mr, Cum- 
BEBiiANs's death. 



74 liECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

Leaves on his path whatever seems too mean. 

To raise the subject or adorn the scene ; 

Gives, as each page improves upon the sight, 

Not smoke from brightness, but from darkness lighty 

And truth from fiction with such art compounds, 

We know not where to fix their several bounds. 

In not disparaging this poem, however, next day, I could 
not refrain from expressing some surprise that he had 
written nothing else: upon which he told me that he had 
occasionally written short poems, besides a great many 
stanzas in Spenser's measure, relative to the countries 
he had visited. "They are not worth troubling you 
with, but you shall have them all with you if you like/^ 
So came I by Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. He took 
it from a small trunk, with a number of verses. He said 
they had, been read but by one person, who had found 
very little to commend, and much to condemn: that he 
himself was of that opinion, and he was sure I should be 
so too. Such as it v,'as, however, it was at my service; 
but he was urgent that "The Hints from Horace" 
should be immediately put in train, which I promised to 
have done. How much he was mistaken as to my opi- 
nion, the following letter shows. He was going next 
morning to Harrow for a few days, but I was so delighted 
with his poem that I could not refrain from writing to 
him that very evening, the 16th of July. 

" You have written one of the most delightful poems 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 75 

I ever read. If I wrote this in flattery, I should deserve 
your contempt rather than your friendship. Remember, 
I depend upon your considering me superior to it. I 
have been so fascinated wi h Childe Harold, that I have 
not been able to lay it down. I would almost pledge my 
life on its advancing the reputation of your poetical 
powers, and of its gaining you great honour and regard, 
if you will do me the credit and favour of attending to 
my suggestions respecting some alterations and omis- 
sions which I think indispensable. Not a line do I mean 
to offer. I already know your sentiment on that point 
— all shall be your own; but in having the magnanimity 
to sacrifice some favourite stanzas, you will perhaps 
have a little trouble, though indeed but a little, in con- 
necting the parts. I shall instantly put the poem into 
my nephew's hands to copy it precisely; and I hope, on 
Friday or Saturday morning, to take my breakfast with 
you, as I did this morning. It is long since I spent two 
hours so agreeably — not only your kind expressions as to 
myself, but the marked temperance of your mind, gave 
me extreme pleasure." 

Attentive as he had hitherto been to my opinions and 
suggestions, and natural as it was that he should be 
swayed by such decided praise, I was surprised to find 
that I could not at first obtain credit with Lord Byron 
for my judgment on Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. " It 
was any thing but poetry — it had been condemned by 



76 RECOLLECTIONS OF THE. 

a good critic — had I not myself seen the sentences on 
the margins of the manuscript?" He dwelt upon the 
paraphrase of the Art of Poetry with pleasure; and the 
manuscript of that was given to Cawthorn, the publisher 
of the Satire, to be brought forth without delay. I did 
not, however, leave him so: before I quitted hiui I re- 
turned to the charge, and told him that I was so con- 
vinced of the merit of Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, that 
as he had given it to me, I should certainly publish it, if 
he would have the kindness to attend to some corrections 
and alterations. 

He at length seemed impressed by my perseverance, 
and took the poem into consideration. He was at first 
unwilling to alter or omit any of the stanzas, but they 
could not be published as they stood. Besides several 
weak and ludicrous passages, unworthy of the poem, 
there were some of an offensive nature, which, on re- 

« 

flection, his own feeHngs convinced him could not with 
propriety be allowed to go into the world. These he 
undertook to curtail and soften; but he persisted in pre- 
serving his philosophical, free thinking stanzas, relative 
to death. I had much friendly, but unsuccessful con- 
test with him on that point, and I was obliged to be 
satisfied with the hypothetical but most beautiful 
stanza — 

Yet if, as holiest men have deem'd, there be 
A land of souls beyond that sable shore, &c. 



LIFE' OF LORD BYRON. 77 

which, in the course of our contention, he sent me, to 
be inserted after the sceptical stanzas in the beginning 
of the Second Canto. He also sacrificed to me some 
harsh political reflections on the Government, and a lu- 
dicrous stanza or two which I thought injured the poem. 
I did all I could to raise his opinion of this composition, 
and I succeeded; but he varied much in his feelings 
about it, nor was he, as will appear, at his ease, until 
the world decided on its merit. He said again and again, 
that I was going to get him into a scrape with his old 
enemies, and that none of them would rejoice more than 
the Edinburgh Reviewers at an opportunity to humble 
him. He said I must not put his name to it. I entreat- 
ed him to leave it to me, and that I would answer for 
this poem silencing all his enemies. 

The publication of it being determined upon, my first 
thought respecting a publisher was to give it to Caw- 
thorn, as it appeared to me right that he should have it 
who had done so well with the Poet's former work; but 
Cawthorn did not then rank high among the brethren of 
the trade. I found that this had been instilled into Lord 
Byron's ear since his return to England, probably at 
Harrow. I was sorry for it; for instead of looking for 
fashionable booksellers, he should, as Pope did, have 
made his bookseller the most fashionable one, and this 
he could easily have done. He thought more modestly 
of himself, and said he wished I would offer it to Miller, 
of Albemarle-street. " Cawthorn had The Hints from 



78 RECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

Horace — he always meant them for him, and the Poems 
had better be piibhshed by different booksellers." I 
could not accord in the opinion, but l yielded of course 
to his wish. It was but a step; I carried it up to Miller, 
and left it with him, enjoinino: him the strictest secrecy 
as to the author. In a few days, by appointment, I call- 
ed again to knovvhis decision. He declined publishing' 
it. He noticed all my objections; his critic had pointed 
them out; but his chief objeciion he stated to be the 
manner in which Lord Elgin was treated in the poem. 
He was his bookseller and publisher. When I reported 
this to Lord Byron, his scruples and apprehensions of 
injuring his fame returned; but I overcame them, and 
he gave me leave to publish with whom I pleased, re- 
questing me only to keep in mind what he had said as 
to Cawthorn, and also the refusal of Longman's house 
to publish his Satire. Next to these I wished to oblige 
Mr. Murray, who had then a shop opposite St. Dunstan's 
church, in Fleet-street. Both he and his father before 
him had published for myself He had expressed to me 
his regret that I did not carry him the English Bards 
and Scotch Reviewers. But this was after its success 
— I think he would have refused it in its embryo state. 
After Lord Byron's arrival, I had met him, and he said 
he wished I would obtain some work of Ihis Lordship's 
for him. I now had it in my ppwer, and I put Childe 
Harold's Pilgrimage into his bands, telling him that Lord 
Byron had made me a present of it, and that I expected 



LIFE OF LORD BYltON. 79 

that he would make a very hberal agreement with me 
for it. He look some days to consider, during which 
time he consulted his literary advisers, among whom, 
no doubt, was Mr. Gifl'ord, who was the Editor of the 
Quarterly Review. That Mr. Gifford gave a favourable 
opinion I afterwards learned from Mr. Murray himself; 
but the objections I have stated stared him in the face, 
and he was kept in suspense between the desire of pos- 
sessing a work of Lord Byron's, and the fear of an un- 
successful speculation. We came to this conclusion; 
that he should print, at his expense, a handsome quarto 
edition, the profits of which I should share equally with 
him, and that the agreement for the copyright should 
depend upon the success of this edition. When I told 
this to Lord Byron he was highly pleased, but still doubt- 
ed the copyright being worth my acceptance; promising, 
however, if the poem went through the edition to give 
me other poems to annex to Chiide Harold. These 
preliminaries being settled, I persisted in my attacks on 
the objectionable parts of this delightful work, now for- 
mally become mine. He wrote an introductory stanza, 
for the second originally stood first, polished some lines, 
and became in general far more condescending and com- 
pliant than I ever flattered myself I should find him; 
which I attributed to his clearly perceiving how sincerely 
I loved him. Finding that I could gain nothing in re- 
spect to the sceptical stanzas, the conciliatory one I have 
already mentioned not having been written at that time. 



30 RECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

I drew up a regular protest against them, and inclosed 
it to him in a short letter just before he left town, which 
departure, though always intended to be soon, was at 
last, very sudden, in consequence of an express from 
Newstead Abbey, by which he was informed that his 
mother's life was despaired of, and urged to lose no 
time in coming lo the Abbey. He instantly set off post 
with four horses, but, alas! she did not live to embrace 
him. 

" Within is my formal protest against the sceptical 
stanzas of your poem. You have seen no symptoms of 
a Puritan in me; I have seen none of a Scoffer in you. — 
You, [ know, can endure my sincerity; l should be sorry 
if I could not appreciate yours. You have the uncom- 
mon virtue of not being anxious to make others think as 
you do on religious topics; I, less disinterested, have the 
greatest desire, not without great hope, that you may one 
day think as I do/' 

ENCLOSURE. 

7%t* /iroiest of R. C, Dallas agaifisf certain See/ideal Stanzas 
in the Foem entitled C/iilde Harold's Pilgrimage. 

Dissentient — 

Because — Although among feeble and corrupt men 
religions may take their turn; although Jupiter and 
Mahomet, and error after error, may enter the brain ol* 
misguided mortals, it does not follow that there is not a 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. gj 

true religion, or that the incense of the heart ascends in 
vain, or that the faith of a Christian is buih on reeds. 

Because — Ahhough bound for a ternri to the earth, it 
is natural to hope, and rational to expect, existence io 
another world ; since, if it be not so, the noblest attributes 
of God, justice and goodness, must be subtracted from 
our ideas of the great Creator; and although our senses 
make us acquainted with the chemical decomposition of 
our bodies, it does not follow that he who has power to 
create has not power to raise; or that he who had the 
will to give life and hope of imujortality, has not the will 
to fultil his virtual, not to say actual, promise. 

Because — Although a skull well affords a subject for 
moralizing; although in its worm-eaten, worm-disdained 
state, it is so far from being a temple worthy of a God, 
that it is unworthy of the creature whom it once served 
as the recess of wisdom and of wit; and although no 
saint, sage, or sophist can refit it,— rit does not follow that 
God's power is limited, or that what is sown in corrup- 
tion may not be raised in incorrnption, that what is sown 
a natural body may not be raised a spiritual body. 

Because — The same authority, Socrates, cited to 
prove how unequal the human intellect is to fathom the 
designs of Omniscience and Omnipotence, is one of the 
strongest in favour of the immortality of the soul. 

Because — Although there is good sense and a kind 
intention expressed in these words ; — " I am no sneerer 
at thy phantasy," "Thou pitiest me, alas! I envy thee/' 



Q2 UECOLLECTIONS OP THE 

— and "I ask thee not to prove a Saducee;" yet the in- 
tention is counteracted by the sentiments avowed, and 
the example pubhshed, by wliich the young and the 
wavering may be detained in the wretchedness of doubt, 
or confirmed in the despair of unbelief. 

Because — I think of the author of the poem as Pope 
did of Garth, of whom he said, " Garth is a christian 
and does not know it." Consequently, I think that he 
will, one day, be sorry for publishing such opinions. 



LIl-E OF LOUD BYRON. 83 



CHAPTER VI. 



OPINIONS AND FEELINGS OF LORD RYRON AFTER 
• THE DEATH OF HIS MOTHER. 



At every step which I take in my task of submitting to 
the pubHc my Recollections of Lord Byron, 1 feel a 
deeper regret at the unfortunate necessity which de- 
prives them of his Correspondence. The letters, which 
I received from him while he was at Newstead, give a 
complete picture of his mind, under circumstances pe- 
culiarly calculated to call forth its most interesting fea- 
tures. Our correspondence was kept up without in- 
terruption. Upon arriving at Newstead he found that 
his mother had breathed her last. He suffered much 
from this loss, and the disappointment of not seeing her 
before her death; and while his feelings were still very 
acute, within a few days of his arrival at the Abbey, 
he received the intelligence that Mr. M***, a very inti- 
mate friend of his friend Mr. Hobhouse, and one whom 
he highly estimated himself, had been drowned in the 



S4, llECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

Cam. He had not long before heard of the deatli ol' 
his schoolfellow, Wiugfield, at Coimbra, to whoiii he 
was much attached. He wrote ine an account of these 
events in a short but atfecling letter. They had all 
died within a month, he having Just heard from all 
three, but seen none. The letter Irom Mr. M*** had 
been written the day previous to his death. He could 
not restore them by regret, and theielbre, with a sigh 
to the departed, he struggled to return to' the heavy 
routine of life, in the sure expectation that all would 
one day have their repose. He felt that his grief was 
selfish. He wished to think upon any subject except 
death — he was satiated with that. Having always four 
skulls in his library, he could look on them without 
emotion; but he could not allow his imagination to take 
off the fleshy covering from those of his friends, with- 
out a horrible sensation ; and he thought that the Ro- 
mans were right in burning their deceased friends. I 
wrote to him, and said: 

" On my return home last night, I received your let- 
ter, which renewed in my mind some of the most pain- 
ful ideas which for many years accompanied me, or 
took place of all others; which, in spite of Philosophy, 
and, yes, my lord, in spite of Religion, rendered my 
life wretched; and which time, in bringing me nearer 
to eternity, has softened to such a degree, that uey are 
now far from being painful. Rut you deprecate the 



LIFE OF I.ORD BYRON. §5 

subject, and I will not enlarge upon it, though one I 
take some delight in. You have, indeed, had enough 
within a very short time, to make you prefer any other: 
yet I must not lose the opportunity of saying once 
more, what I imagine may have been said a thousand 
times before, that is, how cruel a present is a reflecting 
mind, if all existence terminates with life! I feel much 
for your friend Hobhouse. I supposed him embarked 
for Ireland, en mililaire, at the time that I saw the ac- 
count of Mr. M***'s fate in the papers. Resignation, 
I must own, is a difficult virtue when the heart is deeply 
affected — at the same time, it is the part of every man 
of sense to cultivate it, and to be indebted for it rather 
to his reason, or his religion, than to the influence of 
lime. I condemn myself, perhaps; but. the argument 
may be of service to strong and active minds. With 
respect to your friend Wingfield, it must be some con- 
solation to you to have consecrated his memory in the 
stanzas you have since inserted in your Poem; and if 
there should be a meeting hereafter, as alluded to by 
the half-hoping stanza which you have added, let me 
flatter myself to please me, the pleasure with him will 
not be a little heightened by that memorial. 

The funeral pile, tl^e ashes preserved by the asbestos, 
and inurned, are circumstances more pleasing to the 
imagination than a box, a hole, and worms ; but when 
the vivifying principle has ceased to act, let me say, 
when the soul is separated from the chemical elements 



gg ItECOLLECTIONS OP THE 

which constitute body, Reason says it is of little import- 
ance what becomes of them. Even in burning, we 
cannot save all the body from mixing with other natures : 
by the flames much is carried off into the atmosphere, 
and falls again to the earth to fertilize it, and sustain 
worms. Nay, in the entombed box, perhaps, the dust 
is at last more purely preserved; for though, in the 
course of decomposition, it gives a temporary existence 
to a loathsome creature, yet, in time, the rioted worm 
dies too, and gives back to the mass of dust the share of 
substance which it borrowed for its own form. I am 
afraid this language borders on the subject I meant to 
avoid.^' 

Lord Byron disclaimed the acuteness of feeling I at- 
tributed to him, because, though he certainly felt un- 
happy, he was nevertheless attacked by a kind of hys- 
terical merriment, or rather a laughing without merri- 
ment, which he could neither understand nor overcome, 
and which gave him no relief while the spectator would 
think him in good spirits. He frequently talked of M*** 
as of a person of gigantic intellect — he could by n^ 
language do justice to his abilities — all other men were 
pigmies to him. He loved Wingfield indeed more — he 
was an earlier and a dearer friend, and one whom he 
could never regret loving — but in talent he knew no 
equal to M***. In him he had to mourn the loss of a 
guide, philosopher ; and friend, while in Wingfield he 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 87 

lost a friend only, though one before whom he could 
have wished to have gone his long journey. Lord 
Byron's language concerning Mr. M*** was equally 
strong and remarkable. He affirmed that it was not in 
the mind of those who did not know him, to conceive 
such a man; that his superiority was too great to excite 
envy — that he was awed by hinl — that there was the 
mark of an immortal creature in tvhatever he did, and yet 
he was gone — that such a man should have been given 
over to death, so early in life, bewildered him. In re- 
ferring to the honours M*** acquired at the University, 
he declared that nevertheless he was a most confirmed 
atheist, indeed offensively so, for he. did not scruple to 
avow his opinions in all companies. 

Once only did Lord Byron ever express, in distinct 
terms to me, a direct attack upon the tenets of the 
Christian Religion; I postponed my answer, saying upon 
this I had much to write to him. He afterwards re- 
minded me of my having said so, but at the same time, 
begged me not to enter upon metaphysics, upon which 
he nevier could agree with me. In answering him, I 
said, " If I have not written the much with which I have 
threatened you, it has been owing, not solely to my 
avocations, but partly to a consciousness of my sub- 
ject being too weighty for me, and not adapted to a 
hasty discussion. A passage in your letter of the 7th of 
this month, beginning : ' Are you aware that your re- 
ligion is impious ?' &c., incited me to a determination, 

Y 



gg UECOLLrECTIONS OF THE 

in spite of the indolence I begin to feel on argumentative 
topics, to call you a purblind philosopher, and to break 
a lance with you in defence of a cause on which I rest 
so much hope. I still dread that my feebleness may be 
laid to the account, and esteemed the feebleness of the 
cause itself. 

" By proposing to drop metaphysics you cut down the 
much I meditated. I will not pursue them at present, 
though 1 think them the prime subjects of intellectual 
enjoyment. But, though I drop my point, instead of 
couching my lance, I do not mean to say that I will not 
yet try my strength. Meanwhile, though neither Mr. 
jj # * 'g glow, nor my fervour, has wrought conviction 
hitherto; this I am sure of, that you will not shut your 
mind against it, whenever your understanding begins to 
feel ground to rest upon. I compare such philosophers 
as you, and Hume, and Gibbon, ( — I have put you into 
company that you are not ashamed of — ) to mariners 
wrecked at sea, buffeting the waves for life, and at last 
carried by a current towards land, where, meeting with 
rugged and perpendicular rocks, they decide that it is 
impossible to land, and, though some of their compan- 
ions point out a firm beach, exclaim — ' Deluded things? 
there can be no beach, unless you melt down these tre- 
mendous rocks — no, our ship is wrecked, and to the 
bottom we must go — all we have to do is to swim on, 
till Fate overwhelms us.^ — You do not deny the depra- 
vity of the human race — well, that is one step gained 
— it is allowing that we are cast away— it is, figuratively. 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 89 

our shipwreck. Behold us, then, all scattered upon the 
ocean, and all anxious to be saved — all, at least, willing 
to be on terra jirma; the Humes, the Gibbons, the Vol- 
taires, as well as the Newtons, the Lockes, the John- 
sons, &c. The latter make for the beach; the former 
exhaust their strength about the rocks, and sink, declar- 
ing Ihem insurmountable. The incarnation of a Deity! 
vicarious atonement! the innocent sutfering for the 
guilty! the seeming inconsistencies of the Old Testa- 
ment, and the discrepancies of the new! &c. &c.! are 
rocks which I am free to own are not easily melted 
down; but I am certain that they may be viewed from a 
point on the beach in less deterring forms, lifting their 
heads into the clouds indeed, yet adding sublimity to the 
prospect of the shores on which we have landed, and 
by no means impeding our progress upon it. In less 
metaphorical language, my lord, it appears to me, that 
freethinkers are generally more eager to strengthen their 
objections than solicitous for conviction; and prefer 
wandering into proud inferences, to pursuing the evi- 
dences of facts; so contrary to the example given to us 
in all judicial investigations, where testimony precedes 
reasoning and is the ground of it. The corruption of 
human nature being self-evident, it is very natural to in- 
quire the cause of that corruption, and as natural to 
hope that there may be a remedy for it. The cause and 
the remedy have been stated- 



JQ{) KECOLLECTiONS OF THE 

" How are we to ascertain the truth of them ? Not 
by arguing mathematically, but by first examining the 
proofs adduced; and if they are satisfactory, to use our 
reasoning powers, as far as they will go, to clear away 
the difficulties which may attend them. This is the only 
mode of investigating with any hope of conviction. It 
is, to return to my metaphor, the beach on which, we 
may find a footing, and be able to look around us; on 
which beach, I trust, I shall one day or other see you tak- 
ing your stand. I have done — and pray observe, that I 
have kept my word — I have not entered on metaphysics 
on the subject of Revelation. I have merely stated the 
erroneous proceeding of freethinking Philosophy; and, 
on the other hand, the natural and rational proceeding 
of the mind in the inquiry after truth: — the conviction 
must, and I am confident will, be the operation of your 
own mind." 

Lord Byron noticed, indeed, what I had written, but 
in a very discouraging manner. He would have nothing 
to do with the subject — we should all go down together 
he said, " So," quoting St. Paul, " let us eat and drink, 
for to-morrow we die;" — he felt satisfied in his creed, 
for it was better to sleep than to wake. 

Such were the opinions which occasionally manifested 
themselves in this unhappy young man, and which gave 
me a degree of pain proportioned to the affection I could 
not but feel for him; while my hopes of his ultimately 
breaking from the trammels of infidelity, which were 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 91 

never relinquished, received from time to time fresh ex- 
citement from some expressions that appeared to me to 
have an opposite tendency. He frequently recurred to 
his playful raillery upon the subject of my co-operation 
in the murder, as he called it, of poor Blackett. Upon 
one occasion, he mentioned him in opposition to Kirke 
White, whom, setting aside what he called his bigotry, 
he classed with Chatterton. He expressed wonder that 
White was so little known at Cambridge, where he said 
nobody knew any thing about him until his death. He 
added, that for himself, he should have taken pride in 
making his acquaintance, and that his very prejudices 
were calculated to render him respectable. Such occa- 
sional expressions as these, in spite of the inconsistency 
which they displayed, furnished food for my hope that I 
should one day see him sincerely embracing Christianity, 
and escaping from the vortex of the Atheistical society, 
in which, having entered at all, it was only wonderful to 
me that he was so moderate in his expressions as in 
general he had hitherto been. He told me that both his 
friend, Juvenal Hodgson, and myself, had beset him up- 
on the subject of religion, and that my warmth was no- 
thing, compared to his fire — his reward would surely be 
great in heaven, he said, if he were half as careful in the 
matter of his own salvation, as he was voluntarily anxious 
concerning his friends. Lord Byron added, that he gave 
honour to us both, but conviction to neither. 

The mention of Kirke White brought to his mind an 



9^ RECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

embryo epic poet who was at Cambridge, Mr. Townsend, 
who had pubhshed the plan and specimen of a work, to 
be called "Armageddon." Lord Byron's opinion of this 
is already given in his own note, to a line in his Hints 
from Horace (see page 72); but in referring to him, he 
thought that perhaps his anticipating the Day of Judg- 
ment was too presumptuous — it seemed something like 
instructing the Lord what he should do, and might put 
a captious person in mind of the hne, 

" And fools rush in where angels fear to tread." 

This he said, without wishing to cavil himself, but other 
people would; he nevertheless hoped, that Mr. Townsend 
would complete his work, in spite of Milton. 

Lord Byron's moral feelings were sometimes evinced 
in a manner which the writings and opinions of his later 
life render remarkable. When he was abroad, he was 
informed that the son of one of his tenants had seduced 
a respectable young person in his own station in life. 
On this he expressed his opinion very strongly. Although 
he felt it impossible strictly to perform what he con- 
ceived our first duty, to abstain from doing harm, yet he 
thought our second duty was to exert all our power to 
repair the harm we may have done. In the particular 
case in question, the parties ought forthwith to marry, 
as they were in equal circumstances — if the girl had 
been the inferior of the seducer, money would be even 
then an insufficient compensation. He would not sane- 



LIFE OP LORD BYRON. 93 

tion in his tenants what he would not do himself. He 
had, indeed, as God knew, committed many excesses, 
but as he had determined to amend, and latterly kept to 
his determination, this young man must follow his ex- 
ample. He insisted that the seducer should restore the 
unfortunate girl to society. 

The manner in which Lord Byron expressed his par- 
ticular feelings respecting his own life, was melancholy 
to a painful degree. At one time, he said, that he was 
about to visit Cambridge, but that M * * * was gone, and 
Hobhouse was also absent; and except the person who 
had invited him, there was scarcely any to welcome 
him. From this his thoughts fell into a gloomy channel 
-^he was alone in the world, and only three-and-twenty; 
he could be no more than alone, when he should have 
nearly finished his course; he had, it was true, youth 
to begin again with, but he had no one with whom to 
call back the laughing period of his existence. He was 
struck with the singular circumstance that few of his 
friends had had a quiet death; but a quiet life, he said, 
was more important. He afterwards acknowledged that 
he felt his life had been altogether opposed to propriety, 
and even decency; and that it was now become a dreary 
blank, with his friends gone, either by death or es- 
trangement. 

While he was still continuing at Newstead, he wrote 
me a letter, which affected me deeply, upon fiie occa- 
sion of another death with which he was shocked — he 



94 RECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

lost one whom he had dearly loved in the more smiling 
season of his earlier youth; but he quoted — "I have 
almost forgot the taste of grief, and supped full of 
horrors/^ He could not then weep for an event which 
a few years before would have overwhelmed him. He 
appeared to be afflicted in youth, he thought, with the 
greatest unhappiness of old age, to see those he loved 
fall about him, and stand solitary before he was wither- 
ed. He had not, like others, domestic resources; and 
his internal anticipations gave him no prospect in time 
or in eternity, except the selfish gratification of living 
longer than those who were better. At this period he 
expressed great wretchedness; but he turned from him- 
self, and knowing that I was contemplating a retire- 
ment into the country, he proposed a plan for me, dic- 
tated by great kindness of heart, by which I was the 
more sensibly touched, as it occupied his time at such 
a moment. He wished me to settle in the little town of 
Southwell, the particulars of which he explained to me. 
Upon these subjects I wrote to him as follows, on the 
27th of October. 

*'Your letter of the 11th made such an impression 
upon me, that I felt as if I had a volume to say upon it; 
yet, it is but too trjie, that the sensibility which vents 
itself in many words carries with it the appearance of 
aftectation, and hardly ever pleases in real life. The 
few sentences of your letter relative to the death of 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 95 

friends, and to your feelings, excited in my mind no 
common degree of sympathy; but I must be content to 
express it in a common way, and briefly. 

Death has, indeed, begun to draw your attention 
very early. I hardly knew what it was, or thought of 
it till I went at the age of five-and-tweniy to reside 
in the West Indies, and there he began to show 
himself to me frequently. My friends, young and old, 
were carried to the grave with a rapidity that astonish- 
ed me, and I was myself in a manner snatched out of 
his grasp. This, and the other sad concomitants of a 
West Indian existence, determined me to adopt, at 
whatever loss, any alternative by which I might plant 
my family in England. Here I have grown old with- 
out seeing much of him near me, though when he has 
approached me it has been in his most dreadful form. 
I am led to these recollections from comparing your ex- 
perience at three-and-twenty with mine long after that 
age. Your losses, and in a country where health and 
life have more stable foundations than in torrid climates, 
have been extraordinary; and that too within the limit, 
I believe, of one or two years. I thank you for your 
confidential communication at the bottom of the stanza 
which so much delighted me. How truly do I wish that 
the being to whom that verse now belongs had lived, 
and lived yours! What your obligations to her would 
have been in that case is inconceivable; and, as it is, 
what a gratification would it be to me to believe, that 



96 RECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

in her death she has left you indebted to her; to believe 
that these lines 

V 

' Well — I will dream that we may meet ag;ain, 

And woo the vision to my vacant breast' — 

are not merely the glow of a poetic imagination, nor the 
fleeting inspiration of sorrow; but a well-founded hope, 
leading to the persuasion that there is another and a bet- 
ter world. 

Your reflections on the forlorn state of your existence 
are very painful, and very strongly expressed I con- 
fess I am at a loss how to preach comfort. It would be 
very easy for me to resort to common-places, and refer 
you to study and the enjoyment of the intellect; but I 
know too well that happiness must find its abode in the 
heart, and not in the head. Voltaire, who you know is 
no apostle with me, expresses this pleasingly: 

' Est-il done vrai, grands Dieux ! il ne faut plus que j'aime I 
La foule des beaux arts, dont je veux tour a tour 
Remplir le vuide de moi-meme, 
N'est point encore assez pour remplaoer Tamour.' 

He evidently means love^ emphatically so called; but 
kind affections of every nature are sources of happiness, 
and more lasting ones than that violent flame, which, 
like the pure air of the chemist, when separated from 
common air, intoxicates, and accelerates the term of its 



LIRE OF LORD BYRON. 97 

existence. Those affections are the only remedy I see 
for you. The more you lose, the more should you strive 
to repair your losses. At your age the door of friend- 
ship cannot be shut; but man, and woman too, is imper- 
fect: you must make allowances, and though human na- 
ture is in a sad state, there are many worthy of your 
regard. I am certain you may yet go through life sur- 
rounded by friends, — real friends, not — 

' Flatterers of the festal hour, 

The heartless parasites of present cheer.' 

I am truly sorry for the wretchedness you are suffering, 
and the more, because I am certain of your not having 
any pathetic cant in your character. But while I think 
you have reason to be unhappy, I confide in the strength 
of your understanding, to get the better of the evils of 
life, and to enter upon a new pursuit of happiness. You 
see the volume will come, but believe me it comes from 
the heart. 

I thank you most kindly for that part of your letter 
which relates to my purposed retirement into the coun- 
try. You judge rightly that I should not wish to be en- 
tirely out of society, but my bent on this head is more 
on account of my family than myself; for I could live 
alone, that is alone with them. I often avoid company; 
but it has been one of the greatest pleasures of my life 
to §ee them coveted in society. Your account of South- 



98 KECOLLECTIONS OP flTHE 

well delights nie; and the being within reach of the me^ 
tropolis would of itself outweigh the charm of the pic- 
turesque, though a charm, and a great one, it has. The 
being within a ride of you, however, is the decisive at- 
traction. I will, then, from this time keep Southwell 
in view for my retreat, and at a future day we will take 
our flight. I am going to dine with the Ionian to-day. 
He and Mrs. Wright carried me oif suddenly last night 
to the Haymarket to see Mathews, who performs no 
more in London this winter, for which I am sorry, as I 
am meditating another ordeal at the Lyceum, in which 
he might have been of use to me. Mr. Wright feels 
himself honoured in your desire of being personally ac- 
quainted with him, and I shall be proud of being the 
introducer of such friends. You think, no doubt, that 
I have communicated your poem to him, and you would 
not do me justice if you thought otherwise. He is the 
most intimate friend I have, though many years younger 
than njyself. We accord very generally in our opinions, 
and we do not differ as to Childe Harold. I meant to 
say something about the progress of the Poem, but I 
must postpone it. May peace and happiness await you.'' 



LIFE OP LORD BYRON. §0 



CHAPTER VII. 

CHILDE HAROLD'S PILGRIMAGE, WHILE IN THE 

PRESS. 



It was not without great difficulty that I could induce 
Lord Byron to allow his new poem to be published with 
his name. He dreaded that the old enmity of the cri- 
tics in the north which had been envenomed by his 
Satire, as well as the Southern scribblers, whom he 
had equally enraged, would overwhelm his " Pilgrim- 
age." This was his first objection — his second was, 
that he was anxious the world should not fix upon him- 
self the character of Childe Harold. Nevertheless he 
said, if Mr. Murray positively required his name, and 
I agreed with him in opinion, he would venture; and 
therefore he wished it to be given as " By the Author 
of English Bards and Scotch Reviewers." He pro- 
mised to give me some smaller poems to put at the end; 
and though he originally intended his Remarks on the 
Romaic to be printed with the Hints from Horace, he 

lore. 



J 00 RECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

felt they would more aptly accompany the Pilgrimage. 
He had kept no journals while abroad, but he meant to 
manufacture some notes from his letters to his mother. 
The advertisement which he originally intemled to be 
prefixed to the poem was something diiltrent from the 
preface that appeared. The paragraph beginning " A 
Fictitious Character is introduced, for the sake of giv- 
ing some connexion to the piece, which, however, 
makes no pretensions to regularity," — was continued 
thus at first, but was afterwards altered. 

" It has been suggested to me by friends, on whose 
opinions I set a high value, that in the fictitious cha- 
racter of ' Childe Harold,' I may incur the suspicion of 
having drawn ' from myself This I beg leave once 
for all to disclaim. I wanted a character to give some 
connexion to the poem, and the one adopted suited my 
purpose as well as any other. In some very trivial par- 
ticulars, and those merely local, there might be grounds 
for such an idea; but in the main points, I should hope 
none whatever. My reader will observe, that when the 
author speaks in his own person, he assumes a very 
different tone from that of 

* The cheerless thing, the man without a friend.' 

I crave pardon for this egotism, which proceeds from 
my wish to discard aiiy probable iujputation of it to the 
text." 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 10| 

This it appears had been written before the death of 
his mother, and his mournful sojourn at Newstead after- 
wards. It was during that period that he sent me the 
advertisement, upon which he had interHned after his 
quotation of 

" The cheerless thing, the man without a friend," 

" at least till death had deprived him of his nearest 
connexions." 

While Childe Harold was preparing to be put into 
the printer's hands, Lord Byron was very anxious for 
the speedy appearance of the Imitation of Horace, with 
which Cawthorn was desirous of proceeding with all 
despatch, but which I was nevertheless most desirous 
of retarding at least, if not of suppressing altogether. 
Lord Byron wrote to me from Newstead several times 
upon the subject. I forbore to reply until I could send 
him the first proof of the Pilgrimage, when I wrote the 
following. 

" I saw Murray yesterday — if he has adhered to his 
intention, you will receive a proof of ' Childe Harold's 
Pilgrimage' before this letter. 'I am delighted with its 
appearance. Allowing you to be susceptible of the 
pleasure of genuine praise, you would have had a fine 
treat could you have been in the room with the ring of 
Gyges on your linger, while we were discussing the 
publication of the Poem ; not, perhaps, from what I or 



102 BECOLLECTIONS OP THE 

Mr. Murray said, but from what he reported to have 
been said by Aristarchus, into whose hands the ' Childe' 
had somehow fallen between the time of Murray's ab- 
sence and return; at least, so sayeth the latter. This 
happening unknown to you, and, indeed, contrary to 
your intention, removes every idea of courting ap- 
plause; but, it is not a little gratifying to me to know 
that what struck me on the first perusal to be admira- 
ble, has also forcibly struck Mr. Gifford. Of your 
Satire he spoke highly; but this Poem he pronounces, 
not only the best you have written, but equal to any of 
the present age, allowing, however, for its being, unfi- 
nished, which he regrets. Murray assured me, that he 
expressed himself very warmly. With the fiat of such 
a judge, will not your muse be kindled to the comple- 
tion of a work, that would, if completed, irrevocably 
fix your fame? In your short preface you talk of add- 
ing concluding Cantos, if encouraged by public appro- 
bation: that is no longer necessary, for if Gifford 
approve who shall disapprove? In my last I begged 
you to devote some of your time to finishing this Poem, 
which I am proud of having instigated you to give pre- 
cedence before your ' Horatian Hints.' I may now re- 
peat my request with tenfold weight. You have ample 
time, for this is not the season for publishing, and it 
will be all the better for proceeding slowly through 
the press. How pleasantly then njay you overtake 
yourself; and, with some little sacrifices of opinion. 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. JQ3 

give the world a work that shall delight it, and at once 
set at defiance the pack of waspish curs that take plea- 
sure in barking at you. As for the subject it will grow 
under your hands — your letters to your mother wil[ bring 
recollections not only for notes but for the verse. — 
Greece is a never-failing stream — then the voyage 
home, the approach to England, the death (for the not 
identifying yourself with the travelling Childe is a wish 
not possible to realize) of friends, and particularly of 
your mother before you saw her; lastly, the scenes on 
your return to the ' vast and venerable pile,' with the 
Childe's resolution of taking his part earnestly in that 
assembly where his birth, by giving him a place, calls 
upon him to devote his time and 'talents to the good of 
his country. My eagerness carries me, perhaps, too far 
— I would give any thing to see you shining at once as a 
poet and a legislator. With respect to the sacrifice of 
opinion, I must explain myself: I am neither so absurd 
nor 90 indelicate as to express a wish that a man of under- 
standing should profess ought that is not supported by his 
own convictions. But, not to proclaim loudly opinions 
by which general feelings are harrowed, and which can- 
not possibly be attended with any good to the pro- 
claimer, — on the contrary, most likely with much injury, 
— is not only compatible with the best understanding, 
but is in some measure the result of it. Mr. Murray 
thinks that your sceptical stanzas will injure the circula- 
tion of your work. I will not dissemble that I am not 

\ a 



JQ4, RECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

of his opinion — I suspect it will rather sell the better for 
them : but I am of opinion, my dear Lord Byron, that 
they will hurt you ; that they will prove new stumbling- 
blocks in your road of life. At three and twenty, oh ! 
deign to court, what you may most honourably court, 
the general suffrage of your country. It is a pleasure 
that will travel with you through the long portion of life 
you have now before you. It is not subject to that 
satiety which so frequently attends most other pleasures. 
Live you must, and many, many years; and that suffrage 
would be nectar and ambrosia to your mind for all the 
time you live. To gain it, you have little more to do 
than to show that you wish it; and to abstain from out- 
raging the sentiments, prepossessions, or, if you will, pre- 
judices of those who form the generally estimable part 
of the community. Your boyhood has been marked 
with some eccentricities, but at three and twenty what 
may you not do ? Your Poem, when I first read it, and 
it is the same now, appeared to me an inspiration to draw 
forth a glorious finish. Yield a little to gain a great 
deal: what a foundation may you now lay for lasting 
fame, and love, and honour ! What jewels to have in 
your grasp ! I beseech you, seize the opportunity. I 
am glad you have agreed to appear in the title-page. 
It is impossible to remain an instant unknown as the 
author, or to separate the Pilgrim from the Traveller. 
This being the case, I am convinced that your name 
alone is far preferable to giving it under your descrip- 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. IQ5 

tion as " the author of English Bards and Scotch Re- 
viewers;" because, in the first place, your rank dignifies 
the page, whilst the execution of the work reflects no 
common lustre on your rank; and, in the next place, 
you avoid appearing to challenge your old foes, which 
you would be considered as doing by announcing the 
author as their Satirist; and certainly your best defiance 
of them in future will be never to notice either their 
censure or their praise. You will observe that the in- 
troductory stanza which you sent me is not printed : 
Mr. Murray had not received it when this sheet was 
printed as a specimen : it will be easily put into its place. 
As you read the proofs you will, perhaps, find a line here 
and there which wants polishing,* and a word which 
may be advantageously changed. If ^ny strike me I 
shall, without hesitation, point them out for your consi' 
deration. In page 7, four lines from the bottom, 

' Yet deem him not from this with breast of steely' 

js not only rough to the ear, but the phrase appears to me 
inaccurate: the change of him to ye, and ivith to his 
might set it right. In the last line of the following 
stanza, page 8, you use the word central: I doubt whe- 
ther even poetical license will authorize your extending 
the idea of your proposed voyage to seas beyond the 
equator, when the Poem no where shows that you had 
it in contemplation to cross, or even approach, within 



106 KECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

many degrees, the Summer tropic line. I am not sure, 
however, that this is not hypercriticism, and it is ahiiost 
a pity to alter so beautiful a line.* I believe I told you 
that my friend Waller Wright wrote an Ode for the 
Duke of Gloucester's Installation as Chancellor of the 
University at Cambridge. Some of the leading men of 
Granta have had it printed at the University Press. He 
has given me two copies, and begs I will malie one of 
them acceptable to you, only observing that the motto 
was not of his chusing. I believe the sheet may be 
overweight for one frank, I shall therefore unsew it, and 
put it under two covers, not doubting that you will think 
it worthy of re-stitching when you receive it. I gave 
Murray your note on M ^ ^, to be placed in the page 
with Wingfield. He must have been a very extraordi- 
nary young man, and I am sincerely sorry for H**, for 
whom I have felt an increased regard ever since I heard 
of his intimacy with my son at Cadiz, and that they were 
mutually pleased. I lent his miscellany the other day 
to Wright, who speaks highly of the poetical talent dis- 
played in it. I will search again for the lofty genius you 
ascribe to Kirke White: I cannot help thinking I have 
allowed him all his merit. I agree that there was much 
cant in his religion, sincere as he was. This is a pity, 
for religion has no greater enemy than cant. As to 
genius, surely he and Chatterton ought not to be named 

* It is true the travellers did not cross the line, but before Lord 
Byron left England, India had been thought of. 



LIFE OF LOUD BYRON. JQ^ 

in the same day; but, as I said, I will look again. I do 
not know how Blackett's posthumous stock goes off; I 
have not seen or heard from Pratt since you left town. 
Be that, however, as it may, I still boldly deny being in 
any degree accessary to his murder. — George Byron 
left us in the beginning of the week." 

*' P. S. Casting my eyes again over the printed stanzas, 
something struck me to be amiss in the last line but one 
of page C — 

' Nor sought a friend to counsel or condole.' 

From the context I think you must have written, or 
meant, — I have not the MS. — 

Nor sought he friend," 8cc. 

otherwise grammar requires—' Or seeks a friend,' &c. 
These are straws on the surface, easily skimmed off." 

Previous to receiving this letter, Lord Byron had 
written to Mr. Murray, forbidding him to show the 
manuscript of Childe Harold to Mr. Gifford, though he 
had no objection to letting it be seen by any one else; 
and he was exceedingly angry when he found that his 
instructions had come too late. He was afraid that Mr. 
Gifford would think it a trap lo extort his applause, or a 
hint to get a favourable review of it in the Quarterly. 
He was very anxious to remove any impression of this 



J 03 RECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

kind that might have remained on his mind. His praise, 
he said, meant nothing, for he could do no other than be 
civil to a man who had extolled him in every possible 
manner. His expressions about Mr. Murray's deserts 
for such an obsequious squeezing out of approbation, 
and deprecation of censure, were quaint, and though 
strong, were amusing enough. Still, however, the praise, 
all unmeaning as he seemed to consider it, had the effect 
of strengthening my arguments concerning the delay of 
the "Hints from Horace;" and when, in a letter soon 
afterwards, I said, " Cawthorn's business detains him in 
the North, and I will manage to detain the ' Hints,' first 
from, and then in, the press — ' the Romaunt' shall come 
forth first," I found, so far from opposing my intention, 
he concurred with and forwarded it. He acknowledged 
that I was right, and begged me to manage, so that 
Cawthorn should not get the start of Murray in the pub- 
lication of the two works. 

I cannot express the great anxiety I felt to prevent 
Lord Byron from publicly committing himself, as hold- 
ing decidedly sceptical opinions. There were several 
stanzas which showed the leaning of his mind; but, in 
one, he openly acknowledged his disbelief of a future 
state; and against this 1 made my stand. I urged him 
by every argument I could devise, not to allow it to ap- 
pear in print; and I had the great gratification of find- 
ing him yield to my entreaties, if not to my arguments. 
It has, alas! become of no importance, that these lines 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 109 

should be published to the world — they are exceedingly 
moderate compared to the blasphemy with which his 
suicidal pen has since blackened the fame that I was so 
desirous of keeping fair, till the time came when he 
should love to have it fair — a period to which I fondly 
looked forward, as not only possible, bot near. The 
original stanza ran thus — 

"Frown not uptjn me, churlish Priest ! that I 

Look not for life, where never life may be; 

I am no sneerer at thy Phantasy ; 

Thou pitiest me, — alas! I envy thee, 

Thou bold discoverer in an unknown sea, 

Of happy isles and happier tenants there ; 

I ask thee not to prove a Sadducee. 

Still dream of Paradise, thou know'st not where. 
But lov'st too well to bid thine erring brother share. 

The stanza that he at length sent me to substitute for 
this, was that beautiful one — 

" Yet if, as holiest men have deemed, there be 

A land of souls beyond that sable shore, 

To shame the doctrine of the Sadducee, 

And sophists, madly vain of dubious lore. 

How sweet it were in concert to adore, 

With those who made our mortal labours light I 

To hear each voice we feared to hear no more ! 

Behold each mighty shade revealed to sight. 
The Bactrian, Samian Sage, and all who taught the right! 



IIQ RECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

The stanza which follows this, (the 9th of the 2d Can- 
to), and which applies the subject of it to the death of a 
person for whom he felt affection, was written subse- 
quently, when the event to which he alludes took place; 
and was sent to me only just in time to have it inserted. 
He made a Slight alteration in it, and enclosed me 
another copy, from which the fac-simile is taken that 
accompanies this volume. 

As a note to the stanzas upon this»subject, beginning 
with the 3d, and continuing to the 9th, Lord Byron had 
originally written a sort of prose apology for his opin- 
ions; which he sent to me for consideration, whether it 
did not appear more like an attack than a defence of 
religion, and had therefore better be left out. I had no 
hesitation in advising its omission, though for the rea- 
sons above stated, I now insert it here. 

" In this age of bigotry, when the puritan and priest have 
changed places, and the wretched catholic is visited with the 
' sins of his fathers,' even unto generations far beyond the pale 
of the commandment, the cast of opinion in these stanzas will 
doubtless meet with many a contemptuous anathema. Rut let it 
be remembered, that the spirit they breathe is desponding, not 
sneering, scepticism ; that he who has see,n the Greek and Mos- 
lem superstitions contending for mastery oyer the former shrines of 
Polytheism, — who has left in his own country ' Pharisees, thank- 
ing God that they are not like Publicans and Sinners,' and Spa- 
niards in theirs, abhorring the Heretics, who have holpen them 
in their need,—- will be not a little bewildered, and begin to think, 
that as only one of them can be right, they may most of them be 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. m 

wrong. With regard to morals, and the effect of religion on 
mankind, it appears, from all historical testimony, to have had 
less effect in making them love their neighbours, than inducing 
that cordial christian abhorrence.belween sectaries and schisma- 
tics. The Turks and Quakers are the most tolerant; if an Infi- 
del pays his heratch to the former; he may pray how, when, and 
where he pleases ; and the mild tenets, and devout demeanour of 
the latter, make their lives the truest commentary on the Sermon 
of the Mount." 

This is a remarkable instance of false and weak rea- 
soning, and affords a key to Lord Byron's mind, which 
I shall take occasion to notice more particularly in my 
concluding chapter. 

Lord Byron made a journey into Lancashire, and 
some little time elajHed before I took advantage of his 
disposition to oblige me relative to the stanzas on the 
Convention at Cintra. He had always talked of war 
en Philosophe, and took pleasure in observing the faults 
of military leaders; nor was he inclined to allow them 
even their merit, Bonaparte excepted. In these stanzas 
he had not only satirized the Convention, but intro- 
duced the names of the generals ludicrously. I there- 
fore urged him warmly to omit them, and the more as the 
Duke of Wellington was then acquiring fresh laurels in 
the Peninsula. I began to make a copy of the letter 
which I wrote to him on the subject, but something 

Bb 



112 KECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

happened to prevent my finishing it. I insert what I 
kept; it is dated October 3, 1811. 

" The alteration of some bitter stings shall be made 
previous to the Stanza going to press. You say if I 
will point out the Stanzas on Cintra I wish re-cast, you 
will send me an answer. We are now come to them, 
and I fear your answer. What language shall I adopt 
to persuade your Muse not to commit self-murder, or at 
least slash herself unnecessarily.'^ She has not even 
the excuse of Honorius for the pennace she imposes on 
herself, and must suffer. Politically speaking, indeed 
in every sense, great deeds should be allowed to efface 
slight errors. The Cintra Convention will no doubt be 
recorded; but shall a Byron^s Mjpe spirt ink upon a 
hero? You admit that Wellesley has effaced his share 
in it; yet you will not let it be effaced. Were you to visit 
Tusculum, would it be a subject for a Stanza, that 
Cicero or some one of his family was marked with a 
vetch? But you may think that Sir Harry and Sir Hevr 
have done nothing to efface the Cintra folly; still the 
subject is beneath your pen. It had its run among 
newspaper epigrammatists, and your pen cannot raise 
it to the dignity of the Poem into which you introduce 
it. Let any judge read the 25th stanza, and say if it 
be worthy of the pen that wrote the Poem; — the same 
of the 26th. 27lh, and 28th. The name of Byng, too. 
is grown sadly stale in allusion, 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. I J <J 

' And folks in office at the mention sweat;' 

sweat!* I beseech you, my dear Lord, to let the exqui- 
site stanza which follows the 29th succeed the23d,f &c. 
&c. &c." • 

In consequence of this letter, Lord Byron consented 
to omit the 25th, 27th, and 28th stanzas, but retained 
the 24th, 26th, and 29th, making, however, some altera- 
tions in them. As his genius has now placed his fame 
so far above the possibility of being injured by the pro- 
duction of an occasional inferior stanza, and as the suc- 
ceeding glories of the Peninsular campaigns have com- 
pletely thrown into shade the events alluded to, there 
can be no impropriety in now publishing, as literary cu- 
riosities, the three stanzas which were then properly 
omitted. The following are the six stanzas as they ori- 
ginally stood. Those appe.aring below, as 24, 26, 29, 
appeared in the Poem in an altered state, numbered there 
as 24, 25, 2Q, of the first Canto. The stanzas marked 
below, 25, 27, and 38, were those omitted: 

XXIV. 

Behold the hall, where chiefs were late convened ! 
Oh dome displeasing unto British eye ! 

* Printed as the 27th stanza. 

t These references are to my MS. copy of Childe Harold's Pil- 
grimage. 



114 RECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

With diadem hight foolscap, lo ! a fiepd, 
A little fiend that scoffs incessantly, 
There sits in parchment robe arrayed, and by 
His side is hung a seal and sable scroll, 
Where blazoned glares a name spelt Wellesley, 
And sundry signatures adown the roll. 
Whereat the urchin points and laughs with all his soul. 

XXV. 

In golden characters right well design'd 
First on the list appeareth one " Junot ;" 
Then certain other glorious names we find ; 
(Which rhyme compelleth me to place below) 
Dull victors ! baffled by a vanquish'd foe. 
Wheedled by conynge tongues of laurels due, 
Stand, worthy of each other, in a row — 
Sirs Arthur, Harry, and the dizzard Hew 
Dalrymple, seely wight, sore dupe of t'other tew. 

XXVI. 

Convention is the dwarfy demon styled 
That foil'd the Knights in Marialva's dome : 
Of brains (if brains they had) he them beguiled, 
And turned a nation's shallow joy to gloom. 
For well I wot when first the news did come. 
That Vimiera's field by Gaul was lost, 
For paragraph no paper scarce had room, 
Such Paeans teemed for our triumphant host 
In Courier, Chronicle, and eke in Morning Post. 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 115 



XXVII. 



But when Convention sent his handy work • ^ ' 

Pens, tongues, feet, hands, combined in wild uproar; 
Mayor, Aldermen, laid down th' uplifted fork ; 
The Bench of Bishops half forgot to snore ; 
Stern Cobbett, who for one whole week forbore 
To question aught, once morie with transport leap't, 
And bit his devilish quill agen, and swore 
With foe such treaty never should be kept. 
Then burst the blatant* beast, and roar'd, and raged, and — slept iU 

XXVIII. 

Thus unto heaven appealed the people; heaven, 
Which loves t^ie lieges of our gracious King, 
Decreed that ere our generals were forgiven, 
Inquiry should be held about the thing. 
But mercy cloaked the babes beneath Irer wing; 
And as they spared our foes so spared we them. 
(Where was the pity of our sires for Byng ?t) 
Yet knaves, not idiots, should the law condemn. 
Then triumph, gallant knights ! and bless your judges' phlegm. 



*" Blatant beast;" a figure for the mob, I think first used by 
Smollet in his Adventures of an Atom. Horace has the " Bellua 
multorum capitum ;" in England, fortunately enough, the illus- 
trious mobility have not even one. 

t By this query it is not meant that our foolish Generals should 
have been shot, but that Byng might have been spared, though 
the one suffered and the others escaped, probably, for Candide's 
reason, '•^ fiour encourager les autres." 



l\Q RECOLLECTIONS OF TUE 

XXIX 

But ever since Ihat martial synod met, 
Britannia sickens,.Cintra ! at thy name; 
And folks in office at the mention sweat, 
And fain would blush, if blush they could, for shame. 
How will posterity the deed proclaim ! 
Will not our own and fellow nations sneer. 
To view these champions cheated of their fame 
By foes in fight o'erthrown, yet victors here, 
Where scorn her finger points through many a coming year. 

'"''To these stanzas was attached a long note, which 
though nothing but a wild tirade against the Portuguese, 
and the measures of government, and the battle of Ta- 
lavera, I had great difficulty in inducing him to relin- 
quish. I wrote him the following letter upon the sub- 
ject:— 

" You sent me but few notes for the first Canto- 
there are a good many for the second. The only liberty 
I took with them was, if you will allow me to use the 
expression, to dovetail two of them, which, though 
connected in the sense and relative to the reference in 
the Poem, were disunited as they stood in your MS. I 
have omitted the passage respecting the Portuguese, 
which fell w^ith the alteration you made in the ^tanzas rela- 
tive to Cintra, and the insertion of which* would overturn 
what your kindness had allowed me to obtain from you 
on that point. I have no objection to your politics, my 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 117 

dear Lord, as in the first place I do not much give my 
mind to pohtics; and, in the next, I cannot but have 
observed that you view politics, as well as some other 
subjects, through the optics of philosophy. But the 
note, or rather passage, I allude to, is so discouraging 
to the cause of our country, that it could not fail to 
darfip the ardour of your readers. Let me intreat you 
not to recall the sacrifice of it; at least, let it not appear 
in this volume, in which I am more anxious than I can 
express for your fame, both as a Poet and a Philosopher. 
Except in this, in which T thought myself warranted, I 
have not interfered with the subjects of the notes — yes, 
the word "fiction" I turned, as yoq have seen, conceiv- 
ing it to have been no fiction to Young. But when I 
did it, I determined not to send it to the press till it had 
met your eye. Indeed you know that even when a sin- 
gle word has struck me as better changed, my way has 
been to state my thought to you." 

The note I alluded to was as follows: — 

NOTE ON SPAIN AND PORTUGAl.. 

In the year 1809, it is a well-known fact, that the assassinations 
in the streets of Lisbon and its vicinity were not confined by the 
Portuguese to their countrymen; but. Englishmen were daily 
butchered, and so far from the survivQrs obtaining redress, they 
were requested "not to interfere" if they perceived their compa- 
triot defending himself against his amiable allies. I was once 
Slopped in the way to the theatre, at eight in the evening, when 
the streets were not more empty than they generally are, opposite 



llg KECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

to Sn Qfien shoji^ and in a carriage with a friend, by three of our 
allies; and had we not fortunately been armed, I have not the 
least doubt we should have " adorned a tale," instead of telling it. 
We have heard wonders of the Portuguese lately, and their gal- 
lantry, — pray heaven it continue ; yet " would it Were bed-time, 
Hal, and all were well !" They must fight a great many hours, 
by " Shrewsbury clock," before the number of their slain equals 
that of our countrymen butchered by these kind creature§, npw 
metamorphosed into " Ca9adores," and what not. I merely 
state a fact not confined jto Portugal, for in Sicily and Malta we 
are knocked on the head at a handsome average nightly, and not 
a Sicilian and Maltese is ever punished ! The neglect of protec- 
tion is disgraceful to our government and governors, for the mur- 
ders are as notorious as the moon that shines upon them, and the 
apathy that overlooks them. The Portuguese, it is to be hoped, 
are complimented with the *' Forlorn Hope," — if the cowards are 
become brave, (like the rest of their kind, in a corner,) pray let 
them display it. But there is a subscription for these '' i^xiru 
hiXov" (they need not be ashamed of the epithet once applied to 
the Spartans,) and all the charitable patronymicks, from ostenta- 
tious A. to diffident Z., and 1/. \s. Od. from "an admirer of 
valour," are in requisition for the lists at Lloyd's, and the honour 
of British benevolence. Well, we have fought and subscribed, 
atid bestowed peerages, and buried the killed by our friends and 
foes ; and, lo ! all this is to be done over again ! Like " young 
The." (in Goldsmith's Citizen of the World,) as we " growolder, 
we grow never the better." It would be pleasant to learn who 
will subscribe for us, in or about the year 1815, and what nation 
will send fifty thousand men, first to be decimated in the capital, 
and then decimated again (in the Irish fashion, nine out of ten^) 
in the " bed of honour,*' which, as serjeant Kite says, is consider- 
ably larger and more commodious than the " bed of Ware." 
Then they must have a poet to write the " Vision of Don Perce* 



LIFE OF LORD BYKON. 119 

val," and generously bestow the profits of the well and widely- 
printed quarto to re-build the '' Backwynd" and the " Canon- 
gate," or furnish new kihs for the half-roasted Highlanders. Lord 
Wellington, however, has enacted marvels: and so did his oriental 
brother, whom I saw charioteering over the French flag, and 
heard clipping bad Spanish, after listening to the speech of a pa- 
triotic cobler of Cadiz, on the event of his own entry into that 
city, and the exit of some five thousand bold Britons out of this 
" best of. all possible worlds." Sorely were we puzzled how to 
dispose of that same victory of Talavera; and a victory it surely 
■was somewhere, for every body claimed it. The Spanish dispatch 
and mob called it Cuesta's, and made no great mention of the 
Viscount; the French called it theirs (to my great discomfiture, 
for a French consul stopped my mouth in Greece with a pestilent 
Paris Gazette, just as I had killed Sebastiani " in buckram," and 
king Joseph in " Kendal green,") — and we have not yet deter- 
mined tvhat to call it, or ivhose, for certes it was none of our own. 
Howbeit, Massena's retreat is a great comfort, and as we have 
not been in the habit of pursuing for some years past, no wonder 
we are a little awkward at first. No doubt we shall improve, or 
if not, we have only to take to our old way of retrograding, and 
there we are at home." 

There were several stanzas in which allusions were 
made of a personal nature, and which I prevailed upon 
Lord Byron to omit. The reasons which induced their 
suppression continue still to have equal force, as at the 
lime of the first pubhcation of the poem. 

As the poem went through the press, we had con- 
stant communication upon the subject, of the nature of 

c c 



1;20 RECOLLECTIONS OP THE 

which the following letter, taken from several which I 
wrote to him, may suggest an idea. 

" I wish to direct your attention to several passages in 
the accompanying proofs, in which a minute critic might 
perhaps find something to carp at. 

In stanza 24, the moon is called 'a reflected sphere.^ 
I do not know that this is admissible even to*a poet. 
The sphere is not reflected, but reflects. The participle 
present would settle the sense, though I should prefer 
the adjective, reflective. 

A similar objection appears to me, but I may be 
wrong, to ' the track oft trod.' To the idea of treading, 
feet and firm footing seem so necessary, that I doubt 
whether it is in the power of a trope to transfer it to 
ivater. It is in the 27th stanza. 

In the next, the 28th, if Fenelon has not made me 
forget Homer, I think there is ground for a classical 
demurrer. Ulysses and Telemachus were individually 
well received by the immortal lady, but you will recol- 
lect, that she herself says to the latter, 'No mortal 
approaches my shores with impunity.^ You say, 'still 
a haven smiles.' Though no advocate for an unvarying 
sweetness of measure, my ear rebels against this line, in 
stanza 39: — 

' Born beneath some remote inglorious star.' 

The stanza is remarkably beautiful, both for thought 



UFE OF LORD BYKON. X21 

and versification, that line excepted, the idea of which 
is appropriate and good; but its want of melody checks 
the reader's pleasure just as it is coming to its height. I 
wish you would make it a little smoother. You find I 
have given over teazing you about sad stanzas, and, to 
be consistent in my reluctant submission, I shall say 
nothing of the similar errors in the accompanying proofs; 
but I am more than ever bent on dedicating a volume of 
truth to you, and shall set about it forthwith. The more 
I read the more I am delighted; but, observe, I do not 
agree with you in your opinion of the sex: the stanzas 
are very agreeable: the previous ones of the voyage from 
Cadiz through the Straits to Calypso's Island are very 
fine: the 25th and 26th are exquisite. I will send for 
the proofs on Monday." 



122 KECOLLEGTIONS OF THE 



CHAPTER VIII. 

RETROSPECT—MAIDEN SPEECH 



As F was DOW near Lord Byron, for he was at this 
time seldom absent from town, our personal communi- 
cations were frequent; and, except a few queries ad- 
dressed to him on tiie proofs, his work Went smoothly on 
through the press during the months of January and 
February, without further solicitation on my pari, till 
we came to the shorter poems, when I urged him to 
omit the one entitled *" Euthanasia," which he was kind 
enough to consent to do; but which, 1 must add, he had 
not resolution enough to persist in suppressing, and it 
was inserted in the succeeding editions. 

Lord Byion had excited in my heart a warm afiection^ 
I felt, too, some pride in the part I took in combating 
his errors, as well as in being instrumental to his repu- 
tation, and I anxiously wished to sec a real change of 
mind effected in him. Though I could not flatter my- 
self that I had made any successful invasion on his philo- 



LIFE OP LORD BYRON. 123 

sophical opinions, and was almost hopeless on the sub- 
ject, I was still very desirous to keep as much as possible 
of his free-thinking in a latent state, being as solicitous 
that he should acquire the esteem and aflTection of men, 
as I was eager in my anticipation of the admiration and 
fame that awaited his genius. It was with this view I 
wished, and sometimes prevailed upon him, to suppress 
some passages in his -compositions : and it was with this 
view that I often spoke to him of the superior and sub- 
stantial fame, the way to which lay bafore him through 
the House of Lords, expressing my hope of one day 
seeing him an active and eloquent statesnjan. He was 
alive to this ambition ; and I looked accordingly for 
great enjoyment in the session of lh\2, now approach- 
ing. 

In spite of these prospects — in spite of genius — in 
spile of youth — Lord Byron often gave way to a depres- 
sion of spirits, which was more the resullof his peculiar 
position than of any gloomy tendency received from 
nature. The fact is, he was out of his sphere, a ndhe 
felt it. By the death of his cousin William, who was 
killed at a siege in the Mediterranean, he unexpectedly 
became presumptive heir to his grand uncle, and not 
long after succeeded to the barony, at a very early period 
of his minority. His immediate predecessor had long 
given up society •, and, after his fatal duel with Mr. 
Chavvorth, had never appeared either at Court or in 



124, RECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

Parliament, but shut himself up in Newstead Abbey, the 
monastic mansion of an estate bestowed upon one of his 
ancestors by Henry VIII. at the suppression of the re- 
ligious houses ; or, if compelled to go to London on 
business, he travelled with the utmost privacy, taking the 
feigned name of Waters. From him, therefore, no con- 
nexion could spring. His brother, the Admiral, was a 
man very his^hly respected ; but he too, after distinguish- 
ing his courage and ability, had been unfortunate in his 
professional career, and equally avoided society. The 
elder son of the admiral was an officer of the guards ; 
who, after the death of his first wife. Lady Conyers, by 
whom he had only one daughter, married Miss Gordon, 
of Gight, a lady related to a noble family in Scotland, of 
whom Lord Byron was born, and whom his lordship 
took a pleasure in stating to be a descendant of King 
James II. of Scotland, thorugh his daughter, the princess 
Jane Stuart, who married the Marquis of Huntly. But 
neither did she bring connexion. At the death of her 
husband, she found her finances in an impoverished 
state, and she consequently by no means associated in a 
manner suitable to the situation of a son who was one 
day to take a seat among the Peers of Great Britain. 
Captain George Anson Byron, whom I have mentioned 
in the first chapter, the brother of her husband, had, a 
little before she became a widow, obtained the command 
of a frigate stationed in the East Indies, where, while 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 125 

engaged in a particular service, he received a blovsr which 
caused a Hngering disorder and his death * 

* I cannot resist the impulse I feel to introduce here the me- 
morial of him, which was published in most of the public papers 
and journals at the time of his death. 

" George Anson Byron was a Captain in the British navy, and 
second son of the late Admiral, the Honourable John Byron, by 
whom he was introduced very early into the service ; in which, 
having had several opportunities of exerting personal bravery and 
professional skill, he attained a great degree of glory. In the war 
with France, previous to its revolution, he commanded the Proser- 
pine, of 28 guns, in which he engaged the Sphinx, a French 
frigate, assisted by an armed ship ; and some lime after the Alc- 
mene, another French frigate, both of Avhich severally struck 
to his superior conduct and gallantry. In the course of the war 
he was appointed to the command of the Andromache, of 32 guns. 
He was present at Lord Howe's relief of Gibraltar, and at Lord 
Rodney's victory over Count de Grasse, to the action of which he 
was considerably instrumental ; for, as it was publicly stated at 
the time, being stationed to cruise off the Diamond Rock, near 
Martinico, he kept the strictest watch upon the enemy, by sailing 
into the very mouth of their harbour, and gave the Admiral such 
immediate noticeof their motions, that the British squadron, then 
lying off St. Lucia, were enabled to intercept and bring them to 
battle. In consequence of that important victory, he was selected 
by Lord Rodney to carry home Lord Cranstoun, with the account 
of it. In the despatches, Byron's services were publicly and 
honourably noticed, and he had the gratification of being person- 
ally well received by his Majesty. 

" Desirous of serving in the East Indies, and applying for a 
ship going to that quarter of the globe, he was appointed to the 



12Q RECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

This was the greatest loss Lord Bv ron, however un- 
conscious of it, ever sustained. His uncle George not 
only stood high in his profession, but was generally be- 

command of the Phoenix, of 36 guns, and sailed with a small 
squadron under the Hon. William Cornvvallis, early in the year 
1789. Ever active,, he sought the first occasion of being service- 
able in the war against Tippoo Saib, and at the very outset inter- 
cepted the Sultan's transports, loaded with military stores. After 
this he distinguished himself by landing some of his cannon, and 
leaving a party of his men to assist in reducing one of the enemy's 
fortresses on the coast of Malabar. Unfortunately he fell a vic- 
tim to his alacrity in that war. 

•' When General Abercrombie was on his march towards Se- 
ringapatam, the ship which Byron commanded layoff the mouth 
of a river, on which his assistance was required to convey a part 
of the army, and it was necessary that he should have an interview 
vr'nh the General. At the time that the interview was to take place, 
it blew fresh, and there was a heavy sea on the bar of the river; 
but the service required expedition, and danger disappeared be- 
fore his eagerness. A sea broke upon the boat, and overset it : 
in rising through the waves the gunwale struck him twice vio- 
lently upon the breast, and when he was taken up, it was not sup- 
posed that he could survive the shock he had sustained. He was, 
however, for a time restored to life, but he was no more to be re- 
stored to his country. The faculty did what could be done to 
preserve him, and then ordered him to England, rather hoping 
than believing that he could escape so far with life. 

"In England he lived above twelve months; during which he 
suffered the misery of witnessing the dissolution of a beautiful, 
amiable, and beloved wife, who died at bath, on the 26th of Feb- 
ruary, 1793, at the age of twenty-nine years; upon which he 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 127 

loved and personally well connected. Had he return- 
ed from India with health, he would have made amends 
for the failure resulting from the supineness or faults of 
other parts of the family; and his nephew would have 
grevvn up in society that would have given a different 
turn to his feelings. The Earl of Carlisle and his fa- 
mily would have acted a different part. They received 
his sister kindly as a relation; and there could have 
been no reason why their arms should not have been 
open to him also, had he not been altogether unknown 
to them personally, or had not some suspicion of im- 
propriety in the mode of his being brought up attached 
to him or his mother. Be this as it may, certain it is, 
his relations never thoi ght of him nor cared for him; 
and he was left both, at school and at college to the 
mercy of the -stream into which circumstances had 
thrown him. Dissipation was the natural consequence; 

fled with his children to Dawlish, and there closed hia eyes upon 
them, just three months and a fortnight after they had lost their 
mother. 

" In his public character he was brave, active, and skilful ; 
and by his death his Majesty lost an excellent and loyal officer. In 
his private character, he was devout without ostentation, fond of 
his family, constant in friendship, generous and humane. The 
memory of many who read this will bear testimony to the justice 
of the praise ; the memory of him who writes it will, as long as 
that memory lasts, frequently recall his virtues, and dwell with 
pleasure on his friendship." 

Dd 



12§ KECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

and imprudencies were followed by enmity which took 
pains to blacken his character. His Satire had in 
some degree repelled the attacks that had been made 
upon him, but he was still beheld with a surly awe by 
his detractors; and that poem, though many were ex- 
tolled in it,- brought him no friends. He felt himself 
ALONE. The town was now full; but in its concourse 
he had no intimates whom he esteemed, or wished to 
see. The Parliament was assembled, where he was far 
from being dead to the ambition of taking a distin- 
guished part; there he was, if it may be said, still more 
alone. 

In addition to this his affairs were involved, and he 
was in the hands of a lavvjer, — a man of business. To 
these combined circumstances, more than either to na- 
ture, or sensibility on the loss of a mistress, I imputed 
the depressed state of mind in which I sometimes found 
him. At those times he expressed great antipathy to 
the world, and the strongest misanthropic feelings, par- 
ticularly against women. He did not even see his sister, 
to whom he afterwards became so attached. He in- 
veighed more particularly against England and English- 
men; talked of selling Newstead, and of going to reside 
at Naxos, in the Grecian Archipelago, to adopt the east- 
ern costume and customs, and to pass his time in study- 
ing the Oriental languages and literature. He had put 
himself upon a diet, which other men would have called 
starving, and to which some would have attributed his 



LIFE OP LORD BYRON. 129 

depression. It consisted of thin plain biscuits, not more 
than two, and often one, with a cup of tea, taken about 
one o^clock at noon, which he assured me was generally 
all the nourishment he took in the four-and-twenty hours. 
But he declared, that, far from sinking his spirits, he felt 
himself lighter and livelier for it; and that it had given 
him a greater comm&nd over himself in every other re- 
spect. This great abstemiousness is hardly credible, 
nor can I imagine it a literal fact, though doubtless much 
less food is required to keep the body in perfect health 
than is usually taken. He had a habit of perpetually 
chewing mastic, which probably assisted his determina- 
tion to persevere in this meagre regimen; but I have no 
doubt that his principal auxiliary was an utter abhor- 
rence of corpulence, which he conceived to be equally 
unsightly and injurious to the intellect; and it was his 
opinion that great eaters were generally passionate and 
stupid. 

As the printing of Childe Harold's Pilgrimage drew 
towards a conclusion, his doubt of its success and of its 
consequences was renewed; he was occasionally agitat- 
ed at the thought, and more than once talked of suppres- 
ing it. But while this was passing in his mind, the 
poem had begun to work its way by report; and the cri- 
tical junto were prepared, probably through Mr. Gifford, 
for something- extraordinary. I now met more visitors, 
new faces, and some fashionable men at his lodgings; 
among others, Mr. Rogers, and even Lord Holland him- 



I3Q RECOLLECTIONS OF THK 

self. Soon after th^ meeting of Parliament, a Bill was 
introduced into the flonse of -Lords in consequence of 
Riots in Nottinghamshire, for the prevention of those 
riots, in whicli the chief object of the rioters was the 
destruction of the manufacturing frames throughout the 
country, so as to compel a call for manual labour. Lord 
Byron's estate lying in that county, he fell it incumbent 
upon him to take a part in the debate upon the Bill, and 
he resolved to make it the occasion of his first speech 
in the House. But this Nottingham Frame-breaking 
Bill, as it was called, was also interesting to the Re- 
corder of Nottingham, Lord Holland, who took the lead 
in opposing it. Lord Byron's interest in the county, 
and his intention respecting the Bill were made known 
to Mr. Rogers, who, I understood, communicated it to 
Lord Holland, and soon after made them acquainted- 
In his Satire, ]\lr. Rogers ranked, among the eulogized^ 
next to Gifford; and Lord Holland, among the lashed, 
was just not on a par with Jeifrey. The introduction 
took place at Lord Byron's lodgings, in St. James's- 
street — I happened to be there at the time, and I thought 
it a curious event. Lord Byron evidently had an awk- 
ward feeling on the occasion, from a conscious recollec- 
tion, which did not seem to be participated by his visitors. 
Lord Holland's age, experience, and other acquired dis- 
tinctions, certainly, in point of form, demanded that the 
visit should have been paid at his house. This I am 
confident Lord Byron at that time would not have done; 



IJFE OF LORD BYRON. 131 

though he was greatly pleased that the introduction took 
place, and afterwards waved all ceremony. It would 
be useless to seek a motive for Lord Holland's conde- 
scension, unless it could he shown that it was to over- 
come evil with good. Whether that was in his mind or 
not, the new acquaintance improving into friendship, or 
something like it, had a great influence in deciding the 
fate of a new edition of English Bards and Scotch Re- 
viewers, which the publisher, Cawthorn, was now ac- 
tively preparing, to accompany the publication of the 
Hints from Horace, that was still creeping on in the 
press. 

Meanwhile, the Poem that was to be the foundation 
of Lord Byron's fame, and of the 'events of his future 
days, retarded nearly a month longer than was proposed, 
was now promised to the public for the end of February„ 
The debate on the Nottingham Frame-Breaking Bill 
was appointed for the 27th of the same month. It was 
an extraordinary crisis in his life. He had before him, 
the characters of a Poet and of an Orator to fix and to 
maintain. For the former, he depended still upon his 
Satires, more than upon Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, 
which he contemplated with considerable dread; and, 
for the latter, he not only meditated, but wrote an ora- 
tion, being afraid to trust his feelings in the assembly he 
was to address, with an extemporaneous effusion at first. 
He occasionally spoke parts of it when we were alone; 
but his delivery changed my opinion of his power as to 



132 RECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

eloquence, and checked my hope of his success in Par- 
liament. He altered the natural tone of his voice, which 
was sweet and round, into a formal drawl, and he pre- 
pared his features for a part — it was a youth declaiming 
a task. This was the more perceptible, as in common 
conversation, he was remarkably easy and natural; it 
was a fault contracted in the studied delivery of speeches 
from memory, which has been lately so much attended 
to in the education of boys. It may wear off, and yield 
to the force of real knowledge and activity, but it does 
not promise well; and they who fall into it are seldom 
prominent characters in stations where eloquence is re- 
quired. By the delay of the printer, Lord Byron's 
maiden speech preceded the appearance of his poem. It 
produced a considerable effect in the House of Lords, 
and he received many compliments from the Opposition 
Peers. When he left the great chamber, I went and 
met him in the passage; he was glowing with success, 
and much agitated. I had an umbrella in my right 
hand, not expecting that he would put out his hand to 
ine — in my haste to take it when offered, I had advanced 
my left hand — " What," said he, " give your friend your 
left hand upon such an occasion.^" I showed the cause, 
and immediately changing the umbrella to the other 
hand, I gave him my right hand, which he shook and 
pressed warmly. He was greatly elated, and repeated 
some of the compliments which had been paid him, and 
mentioned one or two of the Peers who had desired to 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. J 33 

be introduced to him. He concluded with saying, that 
he had, by his speech, given me the best advertisement 
for Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. 

A short time afterwards, he made me a present of the 
original manuscript of his speech which he had previously 
wrilten^ — and ^rom thai manuscript, I now insert it here 
as a literary curiosity, not devoid of interest. 

" My Lords, 

" The subject now submitted to your Lordships, 
for the first time, though new to the House, is, by no 
means, new to the country. I believe it had occupied 
the serious thoughts of all descriptions of persons long 
before its introduction to the notice of thai Legislature 
whose interference alone could be of real service. As a 
person in some degree connected with the sutfering 
county, though a stranger, not only to this House in gene- 
ral, but to almost every individual whose attention 1 pre- 
sume to solicit, I must claim some portion of your Lord- 
ships' indulgence, whilst I offer a few observations on a 
question in which I confess myself deeply interested. 
To enter into any detail of these riots would be super- 
fluous; the House is already aware that every outrage 
short of actual bloodshed has been perpetrated, and that 
the proprietors of the frames obnoxious to the rioters, and 
all persons supposed to be connected with them, have 
been liable to insult and violence. During the short 
time I recently passed in Notts, not twelve hours elapsed 



134 UECOLLECTIONS OP THE 

without some fresh act of violence; and, on the day I 
left the county, I was informed that forty frames had 
been broken the preceding evening as usual, without 
resistance and without detection. Such was then the 
state of that county, and such 1 have reason to believe it 
to be at this moment. But whilst these outrages must 
be admitted to exist to an alarming extent, it cannot be 
denied that they have arisen from circumstances of the 
most unparalleled distress. The perseverance of these 
miserable men in their proceedings, tends to prove that 
nothing but absolute want could have driven a large and 
once honest and industrious body of the people into the 
commission of excesses so hazardous to themselves, their 
families, and the community. At the time to which I 
allude, the town and county .were burthened with large 
detachments of the military; the police was in motion, 
the magistrates assembled, yet all these movements, civil 
and military had led to — nothing. Not a single instance 
had occurred of the apprehension of any real delinquent 
actually taken in the fact, against whom there existed 
legal evidence sufficient for conviction. But the police, 
however useless, were by no means idle: several notori- 
ous delinquents had been detected; men liable to con- 
viction, on the clearest evidence, of the capital crime of 
poverty; men, who had been nefariously guilty of law- 
fully begetting several children, whom, thanks to the 
times! — they were unable to maintain. Considerable 
injury has been done to the proprietors of the improved 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. ]35 

frames. These machines were to them an advantage, 
inasmuch as they superseded the necessity of employing 
a number of workmen, who were left in consequence to 
starve. By the adoption of one species of frame in par- 
ticular, one man performed the work of many, and the 
superfluous labourers were thrown out of employment. 
Yet it is to be observed, that the work thus executed was 
inferior in quality, not marketable at home, and merely 
hurried over with a view to exportation. It was called, 
in the cant of the trade, by the name of Spider-work. 
The rejected workmen, in the blindness of their igno- 
rance, instead of rejoicing at these improvements in arts 
so beneficial to mankind, conceived themselves to be 
sacrificed to improvements in mechanism. In (he foolr 
ishness of their hearts, they imagined that the mainte- 
nance and well doing of the industrious poor, were 
objects of greater consequence than the enrichment of 
a few individuals by any improvement in the implements 
of trade which threw the workmen out of employment, 
and rendered the labourer unworthy of his hire. And, 
it must be confessed, that although the adoption of the 
enlarged machinery, in that state of our commerce which 
the country once boasted, might have been beneficial to 
the master without being detrimental to the servant; yet, 
in the present situation of our manufactures, rotting in 
warehouses without a prospect of exportatiou, which the 
demand for work and workmen equally diminished, 
frames of this construction tend materially to aggravate 

E e 



136 KECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

the distresses and discontents of the disappointed suffer- 
ers. But the real cause of these distresses, aid conse- 
quent disturbances, lies deeper. When we are told that 
these men are leagued together, not only for the de- 
struction of their own comfort, but of their very means 
of subsistence, can we forget that it is the bitter policy, 
the destructive warfare, of the last eighteen years, which 
has destroyed their comfort, your comfort, all men's com- 
fort; — that policy which, originating with " great states- 
men now no more," has survived the dead to become a 
curse on the living unto the third and fourth generation! 
These men never destroyed their looms till they were be- 
come useless, worse than useless; till they were become 
actual impediments to their exertions in obtaining their 
daily bread. Can you then wonder, that in times like these, 
when bankrujjtcy, convicted fraud, and imputed felony, 
are found in a station not far beneath that of your Lord- 
ships, the lowest, though once most useful portion of the 
people, should forget their duty in their distresses, and 
become only less guilty than one of their representatives? 
But while th<3 exalted offender can find means to baffle 
the law, new capital punishments must be devised, new 
snares of death must be spread, for the wretched me- 
chanic who is famished into guilt. These men were 
willing to dig, but the spade was in other hands; they 
were not ashamed to beg, but there was none to relieve 
them. Their own means of subsistence were cut off; 
all other employments pre-occupied; and their excesses, 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 1[^7 

however to be deplored and condemned, can hardly Ibe 
the subject of surprise. It has been stated, that the 
persons in the tenjporary possession of frames connive 
at their destruction; if this be proved upon inquhy, it 
were necessary that such material accessories to the 
crime should be principals in the punishment. But I 
did hope that any measure proposed by His Majesty's 
Government for your Lordships' decision, would have 
had conciliation for its basis; or, if that were hopeless,, 
that some previous inquiry, some deliberation, would 
have been deemed requisite; not that we should have 
been called at once, without examination and wi'lhout 
cause, to pass sentences by wholesale, and sign death- 
warrants blindfold. But admitting that these mfn had 
no cause of complaint, that the grievances of thom and 
their employers were ahke groundless, that they deserv- 
ed the worst; what inefficiency, what imbecility, has 
been evinced in the method chosen to reduce them! 
Why were the military called out to be made a mockery 
of — if they were to be called out at all.'^ As far as the 
difference of seasons would permit, they have merely 
parodied the summer campaign of Major Stuigeon; and, 
indeed, the whole proceedings, civil and military, seem 
formed on the model of those of the Mayor and Corpo- 
ration of Garrett. Such marchings and countermarch- 
ings! from Nottingham to Bulnell — from Bulnell to 
Bareford — fiom Bareford to Mansfield! and, when at 
length, the detachments arrived at their destination, in 



138 RECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

all * the pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war/ 
they came just in time to witness the mischief which had 
been done, and ascertain the escape of the perpetrators; 
to collect the spolia opima, in the fragments of broken 
frames, and return to their quarters amidst the derision 
of old women, and the hootings of children. ISow, 
though in a free country, it were to be wished that our 
military should never be too formidable, at least, to our- 
selves, I cannot see the policy of placing them in situa- 
tions where they can only be made ridiculous. As the 
sword is the worst argument that can be used, so should 
it be the last: in this instance it has been the first, but, 
providentially as yet, only in the scabbard. The present 
measure will, indeed, pluck it from the sheath; yet had 
proper meetings been held in the earlier stages of these 
riots, — had the grievances of these men and their mas- 
ters (for they also have had their grievances) been fairly 
weighed and justly examined, I do think that means 
might have been devised to restore these workmen to 
their avocations, and tranquillity to the country. At 
present the county suffers from the double infliction of 
an idle military and a starving population. 

In what state of apathy have we been plunged so 
long, that now, for the first time, the house has been 
officially apprised of these disturbances? All this has 
been transacting within one hundred and thirty miles of 
London, and yet we, 'good easy men! have deemed 
full sure our greatness was a ripening,' and have sat 



LIFE OF LOUD BYRON. 139 

down to enjoy our foreign triumphs in the midst of do- 
mestic calamity. But all the cities you have taken, all 
the armies which have retreated before your leaders, are 
but paltry subjects of self-congratulation, if your land 
divides against itself, and your dragoons and execution- 
ers must be let loose against your fellow-citizens. You 
call these men a raob, desperate, dangerous, and igno- 
rant; and seem to think that the only way to quiet the 
' Bellua multorum capitum' is to lop off a few of its 
superfluous heads. But even a mob may be better re- 
duced to reason by a mixture of conciliation and firm- 
ness, than by additional irritation and redoubled penal- 
ties. Are we aware of our obligations to a mob! It is 
the mob that labour in your fields, and serve in your 
houses — that man your navy, and recruit your army — 
that have enabled you to defy all the world, — and can 
also defy you, when neglect and calamity have driven 
them to despair. You may call the people a mob, but 
do not forget that a mob too often speaks the sentiments 
of the people. And here I must remark with what 
alaority you are accustomed to fly to the succour of 
your distressed allies, leaving the distressed of your own 
country to the care of Providence or — the parish. 
When the Portuguese suffered under the retreat of the 
French, every arm was stretched out, every hand was 
opened, — from the rich man's largess to the widow's 
mite, all was bestowed to enable them to rebuild their 
villages and replenish their granaries. And at this mo- 



140 HECOLLEQTIONS OP THE 

ment, when thousands of misguided but most unfortu- 
nate fellow-countrymen are struggling with the ex- 
tremes of hardship and hunger, as your charity began 
abroad, it should end at home. A much less sum — a 
tithe of the bounty bestowed on Portugal, even if these 
men (which I cannot admit without inquiry) could not 
have been restored to their employments, would have 
rendered unnecessary the tender mercies of the bayo- 
net and the gibbet. But doubtless our funds have too 
many foreign claims to admit a prospect of domestic re- 
lief, — though never did such objects demand it. I have 
traversed the seat of war in the peninsula; I have 
been in some of the most oppressed provinces of Tur- 
key; but never, under the most despotic of infidel go- 
vernments, did I behold such squalid wretchedness as 
I have seen since my return, in the very heart of a 
christian country. And what are your remedies.'' After 
months of inaction, and months of action worse than 
inactivity, at length comes forth the grand specific, the 
never-failing nostrum of all state-physicians, from the 
days of Draco to the present time. After feeling the 
pulse and shaking the head over the patient, prescribing 
the usual course of warm water and bleeding — the 
warm water of your mawkish police, and the lancets of 
your military — these convulsions must terminate in 
death, the sure consummation of the prescriptions of 
all political Sangrados. Setting aside the palpable in- 
justice and the certain inefl&ciency of the bill, are there 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 14.1 

not capital punishments sufficient on yourstattites? Is 
there not blood enough upon your penal code! that 
more must be poured forth to ascend to heaven and 
testify against you? How will you carry this bill into 
effect? Can you commit a whole country to their own 
prisons? Will you erect a gibbet in every field, and 
hang up men like scarecrows? Or will you proceed 
(as you must to bring this measure into effect) by deci- 
mation; place the country under martial law; depopu- 
late and lay waste all around you; and restore Sherwood 
Forest as an acceptable gift to the crown in its former 
condition of a royal chase, and an asylum for outlaivs? 
Are these the remedies for a starving and desperate po- 
pulace? Will the famished wretch who has braved 
your bayonets be appalled by your gibbets? When 
death is a relief, and the only relief it appears that you 
will afford him, will he be dragooned into tranquillity? 
W^ill Ihat which Could not be effected by your grena- 
diers, be accomplished by your executioners? If you 
proceed by the forms of law, where is your evidence? 
Those who have refused to impeach their accomplices 
when transportation only was the punishment, will 
hardly be tempted to witness against them when death 
is the penalty. With all due deference to the noble 
lords opposite, I think a little investigation, some pre- 
vious inquiry, would induce even them to change their 
purpose. That most favourite state measure, so mar- 
vellously efficacious in many and recent instances, tern- 



142 RECOI<I.ECTIONS OP THE 

porizin^, would not be without its advantage in this. 
When a proposal is made to emancipate or relieve, you 
hesitate, you deliberate for years, you temporize and 
tamper with the minds of men; but a dealli-bill must 
be passed off hapd, without a thought of the conse- 
quences. Sure I am, from what I have heard and from 
what I have seen, that to pass the bill under all the ex- 
isting circumstances, without inquiry, without delibe- 
ration, would only be to add injustice to irritation, and 
barbarity to neglect. The framers of such a bill must 
be content to inherit the honours of that Athenian law- 
giver whose edicts were said to be written, not in ink, 
but in blood. But suppose it past, — suppose one of 
these men, as I have seen them meagre with famine, 
sullen with despair, careless of a life which your lord- 
ships are perhaps about to value at something less than 
the price of a stocking-frame; suppose this man sur- 
rounded by those children for whom he is unable to 
procure bread at the hazard of his existence, about to 
be torn for ever from a family which he lately supported 
in peaceful industry, and which it is not his fault that 
he can no longer so support; suppose this man — and 
there are ten thousand such from whom you may 
select your victims, — dragged into court to be tried for 
this new offence, by this new law, — still there are two 
things wanting to convict and condemn him, and these 
are, in my opinion, twelve butchers for a jury, and a 
Jeflferies for a judge!" 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. I43 



CHAPTER IX. 

IMMEDIATE RESULTS OF THE APPEARANCE OF 
CHILDE HAROLD'S PILGRIMAGE. 



I REALLY believe that I was more anxious than its 
author about the reception of the poem, the progress 
of which I had been superintending with great pleasure 
for some months; and by that anxiety I was led into a 
precipitate compliance with the solicitations of the 
printers of the last edition of the Satire, who were pro- 
prietors and editors of a literary journal, to favour them 
with an early review of the poem. I not only wrote it, 
but gave it to them, in the beginning of February; telling 
them, that the work would be out in the middle of that 
month, but at the same time charging them to take care 
not to print it before the poem was published. The 1st 
of March arrived — the Poem did not appear — the Re- 
view did. I was vexed — it had the appearance of an 
eulogium prematurely hurried before the public by a 
friend, if not by the author himself I was uneasy, lest 

Ff 



144 llECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

it should strike Lord Byron in this light; and it was very 
likely that some good-natured friend or other would ex- 
pedite his notice of the review. It fortunately happened 
that the 1st of the month fell on a Sunday, and that 
Lord Byron spent it at Harrow, if I recollect rightly, 
with his old tutor, Dr. Drury, and did not return to St. 
James's-street till Monday evening. On Tuesday I got 
a copy of the Pilgrimage, and hastened with it to him. 
Lord Valentia had been beforehand in carrying him the 
Review. " I shall be set down for the writer of it,'' 
cried he. I told him the fact as it stood. The flatter- 
ing excitement to which I had yielded, and the examina- 
tion of the volume I then put into his hand, dispersed 
all unpleasant feeling on the occasion; and I assured him 
that I would take an opportunity of making it publicly 
known that I had done it without his knowledge. But 
this was unnecessary; for the publisher of Childe 
Harold's Pilgrimage had already spread it sufficiently, 
as I had informed him of it: and far from any harm re- 
sulting, it proved no bad advertisement of the publica- 
tion, which was ready for every inquirer, as fast as the 
binder could put up the sheets into boards. The blunder 
passed unobserved, eclipsed by the dazzling brilliancy of 
the object which had caused it. The attention of the 
public was universally fixed upon the poem ; and in a 
very few days the whole impression was disposed of. 
It was not till he had this convincing proof, that Lord 
Byron had confidence of its success. On the day he 



LIFE OF LOUD BYRON. 145 

received the first copy in boards he talked of my making 
an agreement at once with the pubhsher, if he would 
offer a hundred or a hundred and fifty guineas for the 
copyright. I declared I would not; and in three days 
after the publisher talked of being able perhaps to make 
an offer of three if not four hundred pounds; for he had 
not a doubt now of the sale, and that the edition would go 
off in less than three months. It went off in three days. 
The rapidity of the sale of the poem, its reception, 
and the elation of the author's feelings, were unparallel- 
ed. But before I continue my account of it, I cannot 
refrain here from making some mention of Newstead 
Abbey, as it was at this juncture he again began to speak 
to me freely of his affairs. In spite of the pledge he had 
given me never to consent to the disposal of it, he occa- 
sionally spoke of the sale as necessary to clear him of 
embarrassments, and of being urged to it by his agent. 
I never failed to oppose it; but he did not like to dwell 
upon it, and would get rid of the subject by coinciding 
with me. I thought his elation at the success of his poem 
a favourable juncture to take more liberty on so delicate 
a point; and to avoid the pain of talking, I wrote him the 
following letter: — 

" You cannot but see that the interest I take in all 
that concerns you comes from my heart, and I will not 
ask forgiveness for what I am conscious merits a kind 
reception. Though not acquainted with the precise 



146 HECOLLECTIONS OP THE 

state of your affairs, nor with those who have been em- 
ployed in the management of them, I venture to say, in 
spite of your seeming to think otherwise, that there can 
be no occasion for the desperate remedies which have 
been suggested to you. It is an ungracious thing to sus- 
pect; but from my ignorance of the individuals by whom 
your business is conducted, my suspicion can only attach 
generally to that corrupt state of nature in which self- 
interest is too apt to absorb all other considerations. 
Every motion of an agent, every word spoken or writ- 
ten by a lawyer, are so many conductors of the fortunes 
of their employers into their coffers; consequently every 
advice from such persons is open to suspicion, and ought 
to be thoroughly examined before it is adopted. But 
who is to examine it? I would say yourself, did I not 
think your pursuits, your mind, your very attainments, 
have by no means qualified you for the task. But there 
are men, and lawyers too, to be found of disinterested 
minds, and pure hands, to whom it would not be difficult 
to save you the mortification of parting with a property 
so honourable in the annals of your house. For God^s 
sake mistrust him who suggested it; and, if you are in- 
clined to listen to it, mistrust yourself:— pause and take 
counsel before you act. 

Your affairs should be thoroughly submitted to such 
a man or men as I have mentioned — that is, all the ac- 
counts of your minority, and all the transactions relative 
to your property, with every voucher, should be produced 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 147 

to them, and examined by them. Through them every 
thing equitable and honourable would be done, and a 
portion of your ineonSe appropriated to the disencum- 
bering of your estates. I am persuaded that you may 
be extricated from your difficulties without the harsh 
alternative proposed. You mentioned the subject of 
your affairs to me on your arrival in England, but you 
appeared afterwards to wish it dropped ; I have, however, 
frequently wished what, in consequence of your recent 
communication, I have now again expressed. Think of 
it, I beseech you/' 

I felt much anxiety at the thought of Newstead Ab- 
bey going out of the family — certainly not merely be- 
cause my nephew was his heir presumptive, though a 
very natural motive; but I am chevaleresque enough to 
think the alienation of an estate so acquired, and so long 
possessed, a species of sacrilege. The following is part 
of a letter which I wrote home the next day (March 
I2ila, 1812,) after I had seen him. Being written at 
the time, it is the best continuation of my narrative: — 

" The intelligence which Charles brought you of the 
unparalleled sale of Childe Harold's Pilgrimage must 
have given you great pleasure, though I think it will be 
more than counterbalanced by the pain of the subject 
on which I wrote yesterday to Lord Byron. I still hope 
it will be avoided; nor, till he talked of it, did I in fact 
credit that he had the power of disposing of that estate. 



J 48 KECOLLfiCTIONS OF THE 

I was apprehensive that I had gone too far in interfering 
in his private affairs; but, quite the contrary, he took 
my letter in very kind part, though, after a few observa- 
tions he dropped the subject. On parting with Charles 
we drove to St. James's-street, where I staid with him 
till near six o'clock, and had a good deal of pleasant 
conversation. I found the enclosed on his table directed 
to me. On opening it, I was surprised at what he wrote 
to me in it; and still more on finding the contents to be 
a copy of verses to him, with a letter beginning — 
' Dear Childe Harold,' expressing the greatest admira- 
tion, and advising him to be happy. Neither the letter 
nor the verses are badly written; and the lady concludes 
with assuring him, that though she should be glad to be 
acquainted with him, she can feel no other emotion for 
him than admiration and regard, as her heart is already 
engaged to another. I looked at him seriously, and said, 
that none of my family would ever write an anonymous 
letter. I said, that you had all given your opinion openly, 
and I had shown him that opinion. ' You are right, 
you are right,' he said. ' I am sure it is not any of your 
family, but I really know no body who I think cares 
half so much about me as you do; and from many parts 
of the letter, it is no wonder I should suspect that it 
came from Mrs. Dallas, who I know is a good friend of 
mine.' He is persuaded, he says, that it is written by 
somebody acquainted with us. I cannot think so. She 
says she should like to know if he has received her let- 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 1 49 

ter; and requests him to leave a note at Hookham's for 
Mr. Sidney Allison. He says he will not answer it." 

I have found another of my letters immediately fol- 
lowing this, from which! shall make such extracts as 
relate to Lord Byron or the Poem. " I called on Mr. 
Murray this morning, who told me that the ivhole edition 
was gone off. He begged me to arrange with Lord Byron 
for putting the Poem to press again, which is to be done 
in the handsomest manner, in octavo. He shewed me 
letters from several of the most celebrated critics; and 
told me that Mr. Gifford spoke with the highest admira- 
tion of the second Canto, which he had not seon before; 
the first he had seen in manuscript' From him I went 
to St. James's-street, where I found Lord Byron loaded 
with letters from critics, poets, authors, and various pre- 
tenders to fame of different walks, all lavish of their 
raptures. In putting them into my hands he said — ' I 
ought not to show such fine compliments, but I keep 
nothing from you.^ Among his raptured admirers I was 
not a little surprised to find an elegant copy of verses to 
him from Mr. Fitzgerald, the very first person celebrated 
in his Satire, of which he reminds him in a short prefa- 
tory note, adding, ia a pleasing and amiable manner, 
that it was impossible to harbour any resentment against 
the poet of Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. It is impossi- 
ble to tell you half the applause, either as to quantity or 
quality, bestowed upon him difectly and indirectly. The 



150 RECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

letter from Lord Holland places him on a par with 
Walter Scott. But to come to myself: — After speaking 
of the sale, and settling the new edition, I said, ' How 
can I possibly think of this rapid sale, and the profits 
likely to ensue, without recollecting' — ' What?' ' Think 
what a sum your work may produce/ ' I shall be re- 
joiced, and wish it. doubled and trebled; but do not talk 
to me of money. I never will receive money for my 
writings.^ ' I ought not to differ in an opinion which 
puts hundreds into my purse, but others — ' He put out 
his hand to me, shook mine, said he was very glad, ami 
turned the conversation. The sentiment is noble, but 
pushed tgo far. It is not only in this, but in other points, 
I have remarked a superior spirit in this young man; 
and which but for its native vigour would have been 
cast away. I am happy to say that I think his successes, 
and the notice that has been taken of him, have already 
had upon his mind the cheering effect I hoped and fore- 
saw; and I trust all the gloom of his youth will be dissi- 
pated for the rest of his life. He was very cheerful 
to-day. What a pleasing reflection is it to me that when, 
on his arrival in England, he put this poem into my 
hand, I saw its merits, and urged him to publish it. 
There are two copies binding elegantly and alike; this 
I mentioned to him, and said, one was for him, ' and the 
other ,^ said he 'for Mrs. Dallas: let me have the plea- 
sure of writing her name in it.^ " 
When I afterwards brought him the copies, he did 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 151 

write the name: and I had the happiness of finding him 
ready to send one also to his sister. I handed him 
another copy to write her name in it; and I was truly 
delighted to read the following effusion, which I copied 
before I sent the volume off 

" To Augusta, my dearest sister, and my best friend, 
who has ever loved me much better than I deserved, this 
volume is presented by her father^s son, and most affec- 
tionate brother. 

''March lUh, 1812." 

He was now the universal talk of the town: his 
speech and his Poem had not only raised his fame to an 
extraordinary height, but had disposed all minds to be- 
stow upon him the most favourable reception ; to dis- 
believe his own black account of himself, and to forget 
that he had been a most bitter Satirist. Crowds of 
eminent persons courted an introduction, and some 
volunteered their cards. This was the trying moment 
of virtue; and no wonder it was shaken, for never was 
there such a sudden transition from neglect to court- 
ship. Glory darted thick upon him from all sides; from 
the Prince Regent and his admirable daughter, to the 
bookseller and his shopman; from Walter Scott to 
**#**; from Jeffrey to the nameless critics of the 
Satirist, Scourge, &c. He was the wonder of grey- 



J^ RECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

beards, and the show of fashionable parties. At one of 
of these, he happened to go early when there were 
very few persons assembled; the Regent went in soon 
after; Lord Byron was at some distance from him in 
the room. On being informed who he was, his Royal 
Highness sent a gentleman to him to desire that he would 
be presented. The presentation of course took place; 
the Regent expressed his admiration of Childe Harold's 
Pilgrimage, and continued a conversation, which so 
fascinated the Poet, that had it not been for an acciden- 
tal deferring of the next levee, he bade fair to become 
a visitor at Carlton House, if not a complete courtier. 

I called on him on the morning for which the levee 
had been appointed, and found him in a full-dress court 
suit of clothes, with his fine black hair in powder, 
which by no means suited his countenance. I was sur- 
prised, as he had not told me that he should go to 
Court; and it seemed to me as if he thought it neces- 
sary to apologize for his intention, by his observing, that 
he could not in decency but do it, as the Regent had 
done him the ho^iour to say that he hoped to see him 
soon at Carlton House. In spite of his assumed philo- 
sophical contempt of royalty, and of his decided junc- 
tion with the opposition, he had not been able to with- 
stand the powerful operation of royal praise; which, 
however, continued to influence him only till flattery of 
a more congenial kind diverted him from the enjoyment 
of that which for a moment he was disposed to receive. 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 153 

The levee had been suddenly put off, and he was dress- 
ed before he was informed of the aheration which had 
taken place. 

It was the first and the last time he was ever so 
dressed, at least for a British Court. A newly-made 
friend of his 



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Lord Byron was more than half prepared to yield to 
this influence; and the harsh verses that proceeded from 
his pen, were, I believe, composed more to humour his 
new friend's passions than his own. Certain it is, he gave 
up all ideas of appearing at Court, and fell into the ha- 
bit of speaking disrespectfully of the Prince. 

But his poem flew to every part of the kingdom, in- 
deed of the world; his fame hourly increased; and he 
all at once found himself " translated to the spheres," 
and complimented by all, with an elevated character, 
possessing youthful brilliancy, alas! without the stamen 
necessary to support it. 

A gratifying compliment was paid him on the appear- 
ance of Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, by the order given 
by the Princess Charlotte for its being magnificently 
bound. It was displayed for some days in Ebers's shop, 
in Bond-street. Lord Byron was highly pleased when 
I described it to him. 

Among the testimonies of the high feeling which the 



154 RECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

blaze of his genius produced, I admired and selected a 
letter to him from the late Dr. Clarke, which I have an 
additional pleasure in inserting here, as it does not 
appear in the Doctor's correspondence lately given to 
the public: — 

" Dear Lord Byron, 

" From the eagerness which I felt to make known my opi- 
nion of your Poem, before others had expressed any upon the 
subject, I waited upon you to deliver my hasty, although hearty, 
commendation. If it be worthy your acceptance, take it once 
more, in a more deliberate form ! Upon my arrival in town I 
found that Mathias entirely coincided with me. Surely, said I 
to him, Lord Byron, at this time of life, cannot have experienc- 
ed such keen anguish, as those exquisite allusions to what older 
men may have felt seem to denote. This was his answer, ' I fear 
he has — he could not else have written such a Poem.' This morn- 
ing I read the second Canto with all the attention it so.highly 
merits, in the peace and stillness of my study ; and I am ready 
to confess I was never so much affected by any poem, passion- 
ately fond of poetry as I have been from earliest youth. When, 
after the 9th stanza you introduce the first line of the 10th, 

ffei'e let me sit upon the mossy stone ,- 

the thought and the expression are so truly Petrarch's, that I 
would ask you whether you ever read 

Poi quando '1 vero sgombra 
Quel dolce error pur 11 medesmo assido 
Me freddo, pietra morta in pietra viva ; 
In guisa d' uom che pensi e piange e scriva. 



LIFE OP LORD BYRON. IQQ/ 

Thus rendered by Mr. Wilmot, the only person capable of mak- 
ing Petrarch speak English: — 

But when rude truth destroys 

The loved illusion of the dreamed sweets, 

/ sit me dotun on the cold rugged stone, 

Less cold, less dead than I, and think and weep alone. 

" The eighth stanza, * Yet if as holiest men,' &c. has never 
been surpassed. In the 23d, the sentiment is at variance with 
Dryden, 

Strange cozenage ! Jione would live past years again : 

and it is perhaps an instance wherein for the first time I found 
not within my own breast an echo to your thought, for I would 
not ' be once more a boy ;' but the generality of men will agree 
with you, and wish to tread life's path again. 

" In the 12th stanza of the same Canto, you might really add a 
very curious note to these lines — 

Her sons too weak the sacred shrine to guard. 
Yet felt some portion of their mother's pains ; 

by stating this fact : — When the last of the metopes was taken 
from the Parthenon, and, in moving it, great part of the super- 
structure with one of the triglyphs was thrown down by the 
workmen whom Lord Elgin employed, the Disdar, who beheld 
the mischief done to the building, took his pipe out of his mouth, 
dropped a tear, and, in a supplicating tone of voice, said to Lu- 
sieri — TeAoo- ! I was present at the time. 



156 EECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

" Once more I thank you for the gratification you have afforded 
me. 

" Believe me, 

" Ever yours most truly, 

" E. D. Clarke." 
" Trumfiington^ 
"' Wednesday Morning,^* 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. |57 



CHAPTER X. 

SUPPRESSION OF THE SATIRE AND HINTS FROM 

HORACE— FIRST SALE OF NEWSTEAD— 

PROPOSED NOVEL. 



Though flattery had now deeply inoculated him with 
its poison, he was at first unwilling to own its eflfects 
even to himself; and to me he declared that he did not 
relish society, and was resolved never to mix with it. 
He njade no resistance however to its invitations, and in 
a very short time he not only willingly obeyed the sum- 
mons of fashion, but became a votary. One evening, 
seeing his carriage at the door in St. JamesVstreet, I 
knocked, and found him at home. He was engaged to 
a party, but it was not time to go, and I sat nearly an 
hour with him. He had been reading Childe Harold, 
and continued to read some passages of it aloud, — he 
enjoyed it, and I enjoyed it doubly. On putting it down, 
he talked of the parties he had been at, and of those to 
which he was invited, and confessed an alteration in his 
mind; "I own," said he, " 1 begin to like them." 



158 RECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

Holland House, on which so much of the point of his 
satire had been directed, being now one of his most flat- 
tering resorts, it was no longer difficult to persuade him 
to suppress his satirical writings. The fifth edition of 
" English Bards and Scotch Reviewers" was now 
ready to issue from the press; the "Hints from Ho- 
race" was far advanced; and the " Curse of Minerva" 
was in preparation. He had not listened to me fully; 
but be had begun not only to be easy at the delay of the 
printing of these poems, but to desire that delay, as if 
he had it already in contemplation to be guided by the 
receptiou of Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Yet even after 
this was clear, he did not immediately decide upon the 
suppression of them; till some of his new friends re- 
quested it. Upon this, the bookseller who was to pub- 
lish them, Cavvthorn, was apprised of the author's inten- 
tion, and was desired to commit the whole of the new 
edition of " English Bards and Scotch Reviewers," 
to the flames; and the carrying this into execution was 
entrusted entirely to him. 

The expenses of the edition being defrayed, as well 
as those attending the other poems that were also stop- 
ped in the press, and the bookseller having reaped all 
the profits of the four preceding editions, he had Hte- 
rally no right to complain on this subject; but as far as 
respects the right attached to expectations raised, he had, 
perhaps, cause to think himself ill used. He had un- 
dertaken to publish what had been refused by other 



LIFE OF LOUD BYItON. 159 

publishers; had risked making enemies, and had not ne- 
glected the publication entrusted to him. He ought to 
have had the advantages attending the circulation of the 
author's other works I wished it, and'.prd|)osed it. 
Lord Byron had been directed to Miller as the publisher 
in fashion; and from motives I have already stated, Caw- 
thorn was deprived of a patronage, which he reasonably 
expected. He naturally felt sore, but endeavoured to 
submit with a good grace. The suppression of the sa- 
tire was gratifying to Lord Byron's new friends; but it 
had the effect of raising the value of the copies that could 
be obtained. An Irish edition was circulated unadver- 
tized, but it did not appear to renew animosity. He 
was completely forgiven as the venomous satirist, and 
embraced as the successful poet of the Pilgrimage. I 
must not omit to say that he had some occasional doubts, 
or rather moments of assumed modesty, as to the merit 
of his new poem, in spite of its success. " f may place 
a great deal of it," said he, '• to being a lord." And 
again,—-" I hav^ wade them afraid of me." There may 
be something in both these remarks, as they regard the 
celerity of his fame, and the readiness of the '' all hail," 
that was given to him; but the impression made by 
Childe Harold on reiterated perusals, and the nerve of 
his succeeding works, leave not a moment's doubt of his 
success being indeed the just meed of his genius. 

I was now to see Lord Byron in a new point of view. 
The town was full of company, as usual in the spring. 

Hh 



IQQ R?:COLLECTIONS OF THE 

BesiHIes the speech he had made on the Frame-breaking 
Bill, he again attracted notice on the Catholic (Question, 
which was agitated warmly by the peers in the beginning 
of April.* His name was in every mouth, and his poem 
in every hand. He converted criticism to adulation, 
and admiration to love. His Stanzas abounded with 
passages* which impressed on the heart of his readers 
pity for the miserable feelings of a youth who could ex- 
press so admirably what he felt; and this pity, uniting 
with the delight proceeding from his poetry, generated 
a general atfection of whfch he knew not the value; for 
while the real fruits of happiness clustered around him, 
he neglected them, and became absorbed in gratifications 
that could only tend to injure the reputation he had 
gained. He professedly despised the society of women, 
yet female adtilation became, the most captivating charm 
to his heart. He had not admitted the ladies of his own 
family to any degree of intimacy: his aunts, his cousins, 
were kept at a distance, and even his sister had hitherto 
scared the like fate. Among the admiiers who had paid 
their tribute in prose or verse to tiiepiuse-of the Pilgrim- 
age, I have already mentioned one who asked for an 
acknowledgment, of the receipt of her letter. He had 
treated that letter lightly, and said he would not answer 
it. He was not able to keep his resolution; and on 
finding his correspondent to be a fine young woman, 
and distinguished for eccentric notions, he became so 
enraptured, so intoxicated, that his time and thoughts 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 1(3| 

were almost entirely devoted to reading her letters and 
answering them. One morning he was so absorbed in 
the composition of a letter to her, that he barely noticejd 
me as I entered the room. I said, " Pray go on;" and 
sat down at one side of the table at which he was writ- 
ing, where I looked over a newspaper for some time. 
Finding that he did not conclude, I looked at him, and 
was astonished at the complete abstraction of his mind, 
and at the emanation of his sentiments on his counte- 
nance. He had a peculiar smile on his lips; his eyes 
beamed the pleasure he felt from what was passjng from 
his imagination to his paper; he looked at me and then 
at his writing, but I am persuaded he did not see me, 
and that the thoughts with which he teemed prevented 
his discerning any thing about him. I said, " I see you 
are deeply engaged.^' His ear was as little open to 
sound as his eye to- vision. I got up; on which he said, 
'^ Pray sil.'^ I answered that I would return. This 
roused him a little, and he said, " I wish you would." 
I do not think he .knew what had passed, or observed 
my quitting him. This scene gave me great pain. I 
, began to fear that his fame would be dearly bought 
Previous to the appearance of Childe Harold's Pilgrim- 
age, his mind had gained some important conquests over 
his senses; and I also thought he had barred his heart 
against the grosser attacks of the passion of vanity. If 
these avenues of destruction to the soul were again to 
be thrown open by the publication of the poem, it were 



152 UECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

better that it had never been published. I called upon 
him the next day, when I found him in his usual good- 
humour. He told me to whom he had been writing, 
and said he hoped I never thought him rude. I took 
my usual liberty with him, and honestly warned him 
against his new dangers. While I was with him the 
lady's page brought him a new letter. He was a fair- 
faced delicate boy of thirteen or fourteen years old, 
whom one might have taken for the lady herself He 
was dressed in a scarlet huzzar jacket and pantaloons, 
trimmed, in front in much the sam.e manner with silver 
buttons, and twisted silver lace, with which the narrow 
slit cuffs of his jacket were also embroidered. He had 
light hair curling about his face; and held a feathered 
fancy hat in his hand, which completed the scenic ap- 
pearance of this urchin Pandarus. I could not but 
suspect at. that time that it was a disguise. If so, he 
never disclpsed it to me, and as he bad hitherto had no 
reserve with me, the thought vanished with the object of 
it, and I do not precisely recollect thp.mode of his exit. 
I wished it otherwise, but wishing was in vain. 

Lord Byron passed the spring and summer of 1812 
intoxicated with success, attentions of every kind, and 
fame. In the month of April he again promised me the 
letters to his mother as a pledge that he would not part 
with Newstead; but early in the autumn he told me 
that he was urged by his man of business, and that New- 
stead must be sold. This lawyer appears to have had 



LIFE OF LORT) BYRON. 163 

an undue sway over him. Newstead was brought to 
the hammer at Garraway's. I attended the auction. 
Newstead was not sold, only 90,000i. being offered for 
it. What I remember that day affected me consider- 
ably. The auctioneer was questioned respecting the 
title; he answered, that th*e title was a grant from Henry 
VIII. to an ancestor of Lord Byron^s, and that the estate 
had ever since regularly descended in the family. I re- 
joiced to think it had escaped that day; but my pleasure 
did not last long. From Garrstway's I went to St. 
JamesVstreet, when he told me that he had made a 
private agreement for it with Mr. Claughtbn, for the sum 
of 140,000/. I saw the agreement — but some time 
after it turned out that the purchaser could not complete 
the purchase, and forfeited, I think, 20,000/., the estate 
remaining Lord Byron^s. It has been since sold, I know 
not for what sum, as X was abroad at the time-; and my 
correspondence with Lord Byron had ceased. It is a 
legal maxim that, " the law abhors a perpetuity.^' I 
have nothing- to say against opening the landed property 
of the kingdom to purchasers who may be more worthy 
of it than the sellers, but there are two considerations 
which cannot but affect the mind of a thinking mart. It 
disgraces ancestry, and it robs posterity. A property 
bestowed, like Newstead, for deeds of valour and loyalty, 
is a sacred gift; and the inheritor that turns it into 
money commits a kind of sacrilege. He may have a 
legal, but he has no moral, no honourable right to divert 



154. RECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

the transmission of it from the blood that gained it. I 
cannot but think that the reviewer in the Edinburgh 
Review, who speaks of Nevvstead, has overshot his aim 
in ornamenting the abbey with the bright reflections of 
its possessor's genius; in a. poet, imagination requires 
the alHance of soul; without* both, no man can be a 
whole poet. Lord Byron should have ate his daily bis- 
cuit with his cup of tea to preserve Newstead. The 
reviewer's remarks arose from a perusal of the account 
given of it by Walpolfe. 1 will here insert the account 
and the critique: 

" As I returned," says Walpole, '' I saw Newstead 
and Althorpe; I like both. The former is the very Ab- 
bey. The great east window of the church remains, 
and connects with tlie house: the ball entire, the refec- 
tory entire, the cloister untouched, with the ancient 
cistern of the convent, and their arms on: it has a pri- 
vate chapel quite perfect. The park, which is still 
charming, has not been so much unprofaned. The 
present lord has lost large sums, and paid part in old 
oaks ; five thousand pounds of which have been cut near 
the house. In recompense, he has- built two baby forts, 
to pay his country in castles for damage done to the 
navy; and planted a handful of Scotch firs, that look like 
plough-boys dressed in old family Hveries for a public 
day. In the hall is a very good collection of pictures, all 



UFB OF LORD BYKON. |65 

animals; the refectory, now the great drawing-room, is 
full of Byrons; the vaulted roof remaining, but the 
windows have new dVesses making for them by a Vene- 
tian tailor." • • 

On this the reviewer remarks: — 

"This is a careless, but happy description, of one of 
the noblest mansions in England; arid it will now be 
read with a far deeper interest than when it was wi'it- 
ten. Walpole saw the seat of the Byrons, old, ma- 
jestic and venerable; but h-e saw nothing of that magic 
beauty which Fanie sheds over the habitations of ge- 
nius, and which now mantles every turret of Newstead 
Abbey. He saw it when Decay was doing its work on 
the cloister, the refectory, and the chapel; and all its 
honours sieemed mouldering into oblivion. He could 
not know that a voice was soon to go forth froui those 
antique cloisters that should b.e heard through all future 
ages, and cry, ' Sleep no more' to all the house. What- 
ever may be its future fate, Newstead Abbey must 
henceforth be a memorable abode. Time may shed its 
wild flowers on the walls, and let the fox in upon the 
court-yard and the chambers. It may even pass into 
the hands of unlettered pride or plebeian opulence— 
but it has been the mansion of a mighty poet. Its 
name is associated to glories that cannot perish, and 



|g(j RECOLLECTIONS OP THE 

will go down to posterity in one of the proudest pages 
of our annals/* 

This is rather a poetical effusion than a sober criti- 
cism. I have heard that the purciiaser means to re- 
move the Abbey as rubbish, and to build a modern villa 
upon its site. It may be as well for the Poet's fame; 
for though his genius might mantle every stone from the 
foundation to the pinnacles, it would not cover the sale 
of it.f 

About this time Lord Byron began, I cannot say to 
be cool, — for cool to me he "never was, — but I thought 
to neglect me; and I began to doubt whether I had 
most reason to be proud of, or to be mortified by, my 
connexion and correspondence with him. 

The pain arising from the mortification in this change 
was little, compared to that which I felt in the disap- 
pointment of my hope, that his success would elevate 
his character, as well as raise his fame. I saw that he 
was gone; and it made me unhappy. With an imagi- 
nation, learning, and language to exalt him to the 
highest character of a poet, his mind seemed not suffi- 

* Edinburgh Review for December, 1818--!— No. 61, pages 90, 
91. 

t We are glad to learn that the present proprietor of Newstead 
has expended a large siim upon its repair, with a good taste wor- 
thy its high associations. 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 



167 



ciently strong to raise him equally high in the not ad- 
ventitious character of a great man. 

In the autumn he took a place in the country, near 
Lord * * *'s, where he again became absorbed for a 
few months, and where he wrote his first dedication (a 
poetical one) of Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. 

In the beginning of the year 1813 he seemed to be 
a little recovered from his intoxication. He lived in a 
house in Bennet-street, St. James's, where I saw him 
almost every day, by his own desire, and his kindness 
and attentions seemed uninterrupted. I confess I sus- 
pected that the independence of my opinions had had 
some effect upon his mind. I have the copy of a letter 
by me, written to him in the Autumn of 1812, (August 
19th,) when be was going to the country-house he had 
taken, as I have just mentioned; and which I will in- 
sert here as another proof of that independence: — 

"You talked of going out of town in a few days; 
pray remember to leave St. Simon's works for me. I 
will call again, but you may be gone — if so, I shall be 
glad to hear from you. Wherever you are I most sin- 
cerely wish you happy; but let me, with my old since- 
rity, add, that I am confident you are not at present in 
the road of happiness. Do not hate me for this, for be 
assured that no man, nor woman either, more sincerely 
wishes you the enjoyment of every good, than does 

Your truly obliged, &c." 
I i 



|gg RECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

He again became satiated with praise and pleasure, 
and turned his mind to composition. I was highly gra- 
tified, allowing it even to be flattery, at his acknow- 
ledgment of being pleased with the novels I had writ- 
ten; and 1 was still more flattered when he pi'oposed to 
me to write one jointly. I thought the proposal made 
on a transient thought; and was rather surprised, when 
I next saw him, to receive from him two folio sheets of 
paper, accompanied with these words, " Now, do you 
go on." On opening the paper I read, "Letter I. 
Darrell to G. Y." and found it to be the commence- 
ment of a novel. I was charmed to find his intention 
real; but my pleasure, which continued through the 
perusal, forsook me when I reflected on the impossibi- 
lity of my adopting either the style or Ijie objects he 
had in view, as he dwelled upon them. I told him I 
saw that he meant to laugh at me, but I kept the ma- 
nuscript, though, at the time, I had no intention of 
using it; however, in writing another novel, I was 
tempted to build a very different structure upon it than 
was originally planned, and it stands the first letter m 
my novel of Sir Francis Darrell. 



r-lFE OF LORD UYUON. J^Q 

LETTERS. 



180-—. 



" Daruell to G. Y. 

\The first iiart of this letter is lost.] 

******** So much for your present pursuits. I will now re- 
sume the subject of my last. How I wish you were upon the spot ; 
your taste for the ridiculous would be fully gratified ; and if you 
felt inclined for more serious amusement, there is no < lack of 
argument.' Within this last week our guests have been doubled 
in number, some of them my old acquaintance. Our host you 
already know — absurd as ever, but rather duller, and I should con- 
ceive troublesome to such of his very good friends as find his 
house more agreeable than its owner. I confine myself to observ- 
ation, and do not find 'him at all in the way, though Veramore 
and Asply are of a different opinion. The former, in particular, 
imparts to me many pathetic complaints on the want of opportu- 
nities (nothing else being wanting to the success of the said Ve- 
ramore,) created by the fractious and but ill-concealed jealousy 
of poor Bramblebear, whose Penelope seems to have as many 
suitors as b<:t* namesake, and for aught I can see to the contrary, 
with as much prospect of carrying their point. In the mean time, 
I look on and laugh, or rather, I should laugh were you present 
to share in it : Sackcloth and sorrow are excellent wear for Solilo- 
quy ; buffer a laugh there should be two, but not many more, ex- 
cept at the first night of a modern tragedy. 

" You are very much mistaken in the design you impute to my- 
self; I have none here or elsewhere. I am sick of old intrigues, 
and too indolent to engage in new onesi Besides, I am, that is, I 
used to be, apt to find my heart gone at the very time when you 
fastidious gentlemen begin to recover yours. I agree with you 



J 70 llECOLLECTJONS OF THE 

that the world, as well as yourself, are of a different opinion, I 
shall never be at the trouble to undeceive either ; my follies have 
seldom been of my own seeking. ' Rebellion came in my way 
and I found it.' This may appear as co'xcombical a speech as 
Veramore could make, yet you partly know its truth. You talk 
to me too of ' my character,' and yet it is one which you and fifty 
others have been struggling these seven years to obtain for your- 
selves. I wish you had it, you would make, so much better, that 
is ivorse, use of it; relieve me and gratify an ambition which is 
unworthy of a man of sense. It has always appeared to me ex- 
traordinary that you should value women so highly and yet love 
them so little.. The height of your gratification ceases with its 
accomplishment; you bow — and you sigh — and you worship — 
and abandon. For my part I regard them as a very beautiful but 
inferior animal. I think them as much out of their place at our 
tables as they would be in our senates. The whole present sys- 
tem, with r-gard to that sex, is a remnant of the chivalrous bar- 
barism of our ancestors ; I look upon them as grown up children, 
but, like a foolish mamma, am always the slave of some only one. 
With a contempt for the race, I am ^ver attached to the indivi- 
dual, in spite of myself. You know, tha\ though not rude, I am 
inattentive ; any thing but a ' beau g'argon.' I would not hand a 
woman out of her carriage, but I would leap into a rl»er after her. 
However, I grant you that, as they must walk oftener out of cha- 
riots than into the Thames, you gentlemen Servitors, Cortejos, 
and Cicisbei, have a better chance of being agreeable and useful; 
you might, very probably, do both ; but, as you can't swim, and I 
can, I recommend you to invite me to your first water-party. 

" Bramblebear's Lady Penelope puzzles me. She is very beau- 
tiful, but not one of niy beauties. You know I admire a different 
complexion, but the figure is perfect. She is accomplished if her 
mother and music master may be believed ; amiable, if a soft 
.voice and a sweet smile could make her so ; young, even by the 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. |7] 

register of her baptism ; pious and chaste, and doting on her 
husband, according to Bramblebear's observation; equally loving, 
not of her husband, though rather less pious, and t'other thing, ac- 
cording to Veramore's; and, if mine hath any discernment, she 
detests the one, despises the other, and loves — herself. That she 
dislikes Bramblebear is evident; poor soul, I can't blame her; 
she has found him out to be mighty weak and little-tempered ; 
she has also discovered that she married tbo early to know what 
she liked, and that there are many likeable people who would 
have been less discordant and more creditable partners. Still 
she conducts herself well, and in point of good humour, to admi- 
ration. — A good deal of religion, (not enthusiasm, for that leads 
the contrary way), a prying husband who never leaves her, and, 
as I think, a very temperate pulse, will keep her out of scrapes. 
I am glad of it, first, because, though Bramblebear is bad-, I don't 
think Veramore much better ; and next, because Bramblebear is 
ridiculous enough already, and it would only be thrown away upon 
him to make him more so ; thirdly, it would be a pity, because 
no body would fiity him ; and, fourtHly, (as Scrub says) he would 
then become a melancholy and sentimental harlequin, instead of 
a merry, fretful, pantaloon, and I like the pantomime better as it is 
now cast. 
" More in my next 

" Yours, truly, 

" Darrell." 



172 IlECOLLECTIONS OF THE 



CHAPTER XI. 



THE CORSAIRt-CHARGE AGAINST LORD BYRON 
IN THE PUBLIC PAPERS. 



I AGAIN enjoyed his friendship and his company, with a 
pleasure sweet to my memory, and not easily expressed. 
He was in the habit of reading his poems to me as he 
wrote them. In the spring of the year 1813, he read 
me the Giaour — he assured me that the verse containing 
the simile of the Scorpion was imagined in his sleep, ex- 
cept the last four lines. At this time, I thought him a 
good deal depressed in spirits, and I lamented that he 
had abandoned every idea of being a statesman. He 
talked of going abroad again, and requested me to keep 
in mind, that he had a presentiment that he should never 
return. He now renewed a promise which he had made 
me, of concluding Childe Harold and giving it to me, 
and requested me to print all his works after his death. 
I considered all this as the effects of depression — his ge- 



J.TPR OF I.ORD BYRON. 173 

niiis had but begun the long and lofty flight it was about 
to take, and he was soon awakened to the charm of oc- 
casional augmentations of fame. It was some time be- 
fore he determined on publishing the Giaour. I believe 
not till Mr. Gilford sent him a message, calling on him 
not to give up his time to slight compositions, as he had 
genius to send him to the latest posterity with Milton 
and Spenser. Meanwhile, he had written the Bride of 
Abydos. Towards the end of the year, his publisher 
wrote him a letter, offering a thousand guineas for these 
two poems, which he did not accept, but suffered him to 
publish them. He was so pleased with the flattery he 
received from that quarter, that he forgot his dignity; 
and once he even said to me, that money levelled dis- 
tinction. 

The American government had this year sent a spe- 
cial embassy to the Court of Petersburgh. Mr. Gallatin 
was the Ambassador, and my nephew, George Mifflin 
Dallas, was his Secretary. When the business in Russia 
was finished, they came to England. My nephew had 
brought over with him an American Poem. American 
literature rated very low. The Edinburgh Review says, 
"the Americans have none — no native literature we 
mean. It is all imported. They had a Franklin in- 
deed; aftd may afford to live half a century on his fame. 
There is, or was, a Mr. Dwight, who wrote some poems; 
and his baptismal name was Timothy. There is also a 
small account of Virginia, by Jefferson, and an Epic. 



J'J'^ UECOIXECTIONS OP THK 

by Joel Barlow — and some pieces of pleasantry, by Mr. 
Irving. But why should the Americans write books, 
when a six weeks passage brings them, in their own 
tongue, our sense, science, and genius, in bales and hogs- 
heads.'^"* Much cannot be said for the hberality of this 
criticism. Some names, it is true, have been doomed 
by the spirit of rklicule to mockery; Lord Byron him- 
self exclaims against both baptismal and surname — . 

Oh ! Amos Cottle ! — Phoebus ! what a name 
To fill the speaking-trump of future fame I 

So when it suited his Satire, he split the southern smooth 
monosyllable of Brougham into the rough nothern dis- 
syllable of Brough-am: 

Beware, lest blondermg Brough-am spoil the sale, 
Turn beef to bannocks, cauliflowers to kail- 
Yet we know, that very unsonorous names have, by 
greatness of mind, by talents and by virtues, been exalt- 
ed to the highest pitch of admiration. Pitt, and Fox, 
and Petty, owe their grandeur to the men who have 
borne them. Tom Spratt, and Tom Tickell, were Eng- 
lish poets and celebrated characters. President Dwight 
was no writer of poetry, but had he written the^easons, 

* Edinburgh Review — No. 60, p. 144, Dec. 1818. 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. I75 

he would have been a far-famed poet in spite of his name 
being Timothy; and the*theological works which he has 
written, and of which the Edinburgh Reviewer seems 
to be totally ignorant, will insmortalize his name though 
it were ever so cacophonic. The reasoning is equally 
unintelligible, when the Reviewer decides it to be suffi- 
cient for the Americans to import sense, science, and 
genius, in bales and hogsheads. Might not the Ameri- 
cans as reasonably ask why the lawyers of Edinburgh 
should write Reviews, when three days bring them, in 
the tongue they write in, all the criticism of England, 
in brown-paper packages? Poetical genius is a heavenly 
spark, with which it pleases the Almighty to gift some 
men. It has shown forth in the other quarters of the 
globe — if it be bestowed on an American, the ability of 
importing English and Scotch poems is no good reason 
why it should be smothered. The poem which my ne- 
phew brought to England was one of those pieces of 
pleasantry by an American gentleman.* It was a bur- 
lesque of a fine poem of one of our most celebrated 
poets, and as a specimen of a promising nature, it was 
re-printed in London. With this motive, only the inge- 
nuity of the writer was considered. It could not be 
thought more injurious to the real Bard, than Cotton^s 

* The gentleman to whom it was attributed has since distin- 
guished himself in the literary world, and is now said not to be 
the author of it. It was not denied at the time : the Americans 
in London ascribed it to him. 

K k 



jyg RECOLLECTIONS OP THE 

burlesque to Virgil; nor couUi the American hostility to 
a gallant British commander h% suspected of giving a 
moment's pain — at least I do not think so. 

I believe that the nature of this American poem was 
known to the propiietor of the Qoarterly Review. So 
far as it was a burlesque on the Lay of the Last Min- 
strel, I know if was; yet was he, as a publisher, so 
anxious to get it, that he engaged Lord Byron to use 
his utmost influence with me to obtain it for him, and 
his Lordship wrote me a most pressing letter upon the 
occasion. He asked me to let Mr. Murray (who was in 
despair about it) have the4)ublicalion of this poem, as 
the greatest possible favour. 

The followmg was my answer, dated Worton-House, 
December 19th, 1813:— 

" I would not hesitate a moment to lay aside the kind 
of resentment I feel against Mr. Murray, for the plea- 
sure of complying with the desire you so strongly ex- 
press, if it were in my power;— but judge of the im- 
practicability, wlien I assure you that a considerable 
portion of the poem is in the printer's hands, and that 
the publication will soon make its appearance. It has 
indeed been morally impossible for me to do it for some 
time. I think I need not protest very eagerly to be be- 
lieved, when I say that I should be happy to do what 
you could esteem a favour. I wish for no triumph over 
Murray. — The post of this morning brought me a letter 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON, jty-y 

from him. — T shall probably answer it at my leisure some 
way or other. — I wish you a good night, and ever am, 
" My dear Lord/' &c. 

In less than a fortnight, the current of satisfaction 
which had run thus high and thus strong in favour of 
his publisher, ebbed with equal rapidity; and became so 
low, that in addition to the loss of this coveted American 
poem, the publication of his Lordship's future works had 
nearly gone into a different channel. On the 28th of 
December, I called in the morning on Lord Byron, 
whom I found composing "The Corsair." He had 
been working upon it but a few days, and he read me 
the portion he had writtep.- After some observations, he 
said, " I have a great mirtd — I will." He then added, 
that he should finish it soon, and asked me to accept of 
the copyright. I wa^ much surprised. He had, before 
he was aware of the value of his works, declared he 
never would take money for them; and that I should 
have the whole advantage of all he wrote. This decla- 
ration became morally void, when the question was about 
thousands instead of a few hundreds; and I perfectly 
agree with the admired and admirable author of Waverly, 
that " the wise and good accept not gifts which are 
made in the heat of blood, and which may be after re- 
pented of"* I felt this on the sale of Childe Harold, 

* Monastery, vol. iii. c. 7. 



■J»j(g RECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

and observed it to him. The copyright of the Giaour 
and the Bride of Abydos remained undisposed of, though 
the poems were selling rapidly; nor had I the slightest 
notion that he would ever again give me a copyright. 
But as he continued in the resolutioa of not appropriat- 
ing the sale of his works to his own use, I did not 
scruple to accept that of the Corsair; and 1 thanked 
him. He asked me to call and hear the portions read 
as he wrote them. I went every moriiing, and was 
astonished at the rapidity of his composition. He gave 
me the poem complete on New Yearns Day, 1814, say- 
ing, that my acceptance of it gave him great pleasure; 
and that 1 was fully at liberty to publish it with any 
bookseller I pleased. Independent of the profit, I was 
highly delighted with this confidential renewal of kind- 
ness, and he seemed pleased that I felt it so. I must, 
however, own, that I found kindness to me was not the 
sole motive of the gift. I asked him if he wished me to 
publish it through his publisher. — ' Not at all," said he, 
do exactly as you please; he has had the assurance to 
give me his advice as to writing, and to tell m^ that I 
should outwrite myself I would rather you would 
publish it by some other bookseller." 

The circumstanc es, however, lowiered the pride of 
wealth; a submissive letter was written, containing some 
flattery, and, in spite of an awkward apology, Lord Byron 
was appeased. He requested me to let the publisher of 



UFE or LORD BYRON. J 79 

the former poems have the copyright, to which I of 
of course agreed. 

While the Corsnir was in the press Lord Byron 
dedicated it to Mr. Moore, and at the end of the poem 
he added, " Stanzas on a Lady weeping.^' These were 
printed without my knowledge. They no sooner ap- 
peared, acknowledged by his name in the title-page, than 
he was violently assailed in the leading newspapers, in 
verse and in prose: his life, his sentiments, his works„ 
The suppressed Satire, with the names of his new friends 
at length, was re-printed, in great portions, in the 
Courier, Post, and other papers. Among other things, 
an attempt was made to mortify him, by assertions of 
his receiving large sums of money for his writings. He 
was extremely galled — and indeed the daily-continued 
attempts to overwhelm him were enough to gall him. 
There was no cessation of the fire opened upon him. 
I was exceedingly hurt, but he had brought it upon 
himself, after having by his genius conquered all his 
enemies. He did not relish the ecraser system, when it 
was turned upon himself ; and he derived no aid from 
those who had got him into the scrape. In the goading 
it occasioned he wrote to me. 

His feelings upon this subject were clearly manifested, 
but he expressed himself in the kindest manner towards 
me; and though Mr. Murray was going to contradict 
the statement made in the Courier and other papers, he 
desired that my name should not be mentioned. Im- 



180 IlECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

medi«itely on receivins: Lord Byron's letter, I sat down 
to write one to be published in the morning-papers, and 
while I was writing it, I received another note from him. 
It had been determined that Mr. Murray should say 
nothing upon the subject, and Lord Byron determined 
to take no notice of it himself He therefore wished me 
not to involve myseli' in the squabble by any public state- 
ment. 

In the first of these letters it was very evident that 
Lord Byron wished me to intefere, though he was too 
delicate to ask it; and in the second letter, nothing can 
be clearer than that he was hurt at the determination 
which had been taken, that his publishei^ should say 
nothing. I therefore resolved to publish the letter I had 
written, but, at the same time, to have his concurrence; 
in consequence I took it to town and read it to bim. 
He was greatly pleased, but urged me to do nothing dis- 
agreeable to my feelings. I assured him that it was, on 
the contrary, extremely agreeable to them, and I im- 
mediately carried it to the propiietor of the Morning 
Post, with whom f was acquainted. I sent copies to 
the Morning Chronicle and other papers, and I had the 
satisfaction of finding the persecution discontinued. The 
following is the letter: — 

TO THE EDITOR OF THE MORNING POST. 

Sir, 

I have seen the paragraph in an evening paper, in 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. JQl 

which Lord Byron is- accused of " rect^iving and pocket- 
ing" large sums for his works. I believe no one who 
knows him has the slightest suspicion of this kind, but 
the assertion being pubhc, I think it a justice I owe to 
Lord B}ron to contradict it publicly. I address this 
letter to you for that purpose, and I am happy that it 
gives me an opportunity, at this moment, to make some 
observations which I have for several days been anxious 
to do publicly, but from which I have been restrained by 
an apprehension that I should be suspected of being 
prompted l)y his Lordship. 

I take upon me to affirm that Lord Byron never re 
ceived a shilling for any of his works. To my certain 
knowledge the profits of the Satire were left entirely to 
the publisher of it. The gift of the copyright of Childe 
Harold's Pilgrwmge I have already publicly acknow- 
ledged, in the Dedication of the new edition of my novels; 
and I now add my acknowledgment for that of the 
Corsair, not only for the profitable part of it, but for the 
delicate and delightful manner of bestowing it, while yet 
unpublished. With respect to his two other poems, the 
Giaour and the Bride ofJlbydos, Mr. Murray, the pub- 
lisher of them, can truly attest that no part of the sale 
of those has ever touched his hands, or been disposed of 
for his use. Having said thus much as to facts, I can- 
not but express my surprise, that it should ever be deemed 
a matter of reproach that he should appropriate the pecu- 
niary returns of his works. Neither rank nor fortune 



IQ2 RECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

seems to me to place any man above this; for what dif- 
ference does it make in honour and noble feelings, 
whether a copyright be bestowed, or its value employed 
in beneficent purposes. I differ with my Lord Byron 
on this subject as well as some others; and he has con- 
stantly, both by word and action, shown his aversion to 
receiving money f6r his productions. 

Tlie pen in my hand, and affection and grateful feel- 
ings in my heart, 1 cannot refrain from touching upon a 
subject of a painful nature, delicate as it is, and fearful 
as I am that I shall be unable to manage it with a pro- 
priety of which it is susceptible, but of which the ex- 
ecution is not easy. One reflection encourages me, for 
if magnanimity be the attendant of rank, (and all that I 
have published proves such a prepossession in my mind,) 
then have 1 the less to fear from the most illustrious^ in 
undertaking to throw, into its proper point of view, a 
circumstance which has been completely misrepresented 
or misunderstood. 

I do not purpose to defend the publication of the two 
stanzas at the end of the Corsair, which has given rise 
to such a torrent of abuse, and of the insertion of which 
I was not aware till the Poem was published; but most 
surely they have been placed in a light which never 
entered the mind of the author, and in which men of 
dispassionate minds cannot see them. It is absurd to 
talk seriously of their ever being tpeant to disunite the 
parent and the child, or to hbel the sovereign. It is very 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. J 83 

easy to descant upon such assumed enormities; but the 
assumption of" them, if not a loyal error, is an atrocious 
crime. Lord Byron never contemplated the horrors 
that have been attributed to him. The lines alluded to 
were an impromptu, upon a single vi^ell-known fact; I 
mean the failure in the endeavour to form an adminis- 
tration in the year 18 12^ according to the wishes of the 
author's friends; on which it was reported that tears were 
shed by an illustrious female. The very words in the 
context show the verses to be confined to that one cir- 
cumstance, for they are in the singular number, disgrace^ 
fault What disgrace.^ — What fault? Those (says the 
verse) of not saving a sinking realm (and let the date be 
remembered, March, 1812,) by taking the writer's 
friends to support it. Never was there a more simple 
political sentiment expressed in rhyme. If this be libel, 
if this be the undermining of filial affection, where shall 
we find a term for the language often heard in both 
houses of Parliament.'^ 

While I hope that I have said enough to show the 
hasty misrepresentation of the lines in question, I must 
take care not to be misunderstood myself. The little 
part I take in conversing on politics is well known, 
among my friends, to differ completely from the politi- 
cal sentiments which dictated these verses; but know- 
ing their author better than most who pretend to judge 
of him, and with motives of affection, veneration, and 
admiration, I am shocked to think that the hasty col- 

L I 



jg4 RECOLLECTIONS OP THE 

iecting of a few scattered poems, to be placed at the 
end of a volume, should have raised such a clamour, — • 
I am, Sir, your obedient Servant, 

R. C Dallas. 

I was delighted, and Lord Byron was pleased with 
the effect of my public letter. I passed a very pleasant 
morning with him a day or two after it appeared, and 
he read me several letters he had received upon it. 

The Corsair had an immediate and rapid sale. As 
soon as it was printed, the publisher sent it to a gen- 
tleman of fortune and of talent, who supported his 
Review; informing him, at the same time, that he had 
sold several thousand copies of the Poem on the first 
day. 

In the original manuscript of the Corsair, the chief 
female character was called Francesca, in whose per- 
son he meant to delineate one of his acquaintance; but, 
before the Poem went to the press, he changed the 
name to Medora. 

Through the winter, and during the spring of 1814, 
he maintained an open and friendly intercourse with 
me. I saw him very frequently. 

In May he began his Poem of Lara:; on the 19th I 
called upon him, when he read the beginning of it to 
me. I immediately said that it was a continuation of 
the Corsair. 

He was now so frank and kind that I again ventured 



LIFE Of lord BYRON. |g5 

to talk to him of Newstead Abbey, which brought to 
his mind his promise of the pledge; and, on June 10, 
1814, after reading the continuation of Lara, he re- 
newed the resolution of never parting with the Abbey. 
In confirmation of this he gave me all the letters he had 
written to his mother, from the time of his forming the 
resolution to go abroad till his return to England in 
■July, 1811. The one he originally meant as a pledge 
for the preservation of Newstead, is that of the 6th 
March, 1809. In giving them to me, he said, they 
might one day be looked upon as curiosities, and that 
they were mine to do as I pleased with. 

I remained of opinion that Lara was the Corsair dis- 
guised, or, rather, that Conrad was Lara returned, 
after having embraced the life of a Corsair in conse- 
quence of his crime. He had not determined the catas- 
trophe when I left him — I wrote and urged it. This 
was my letter on the subject: — 

" The beauties of your new Poem equal, some of 
them perhaps excel, what we have enjoyed in your pre- 
ceding tales. With respect to the narrative, the in- 
terest, as far as you have read, is completely sustained. 
Yet, to render Lara ultimately as interesting as Conrad, 
he ought, I think, to be developed of his mystery in 
the conclusion of the Poem. Sequels to tales have sel- 
dom been favourites, and I see you are disposed to 
avoid one in Lara, but such a sequel as you would 



Igg RECOLLJPC.TIONS OF THL 

make, with what you have begun, could not fail of 
success. Slay him in your proposed battle, and let 
Calad's lamentation over his body discover in him the 
Corsair, and in his page the wretched Golnare. For 
all this gloom pray give us after this a happy tale." 

. . • 

He chose to leave it to the reader's determination; 
but, I think, it is easy to be traced in the scene under 
the line where Lara, mortally wounded, is attended by 
Kaled:— 

" His dying tones are in that other tongue, 

To which some strange remembrance wildly clung. 

They Spoke of other scenes, but what — is known 

To Kaled, whom their meaning reached alone; 

And) he replied, though faintly, to their sound, 

While gazed the rest in dumb amazement round -. 

They seemed e'en then — that twain — unto the last 

To half forget the present in the past ; 

To share between themselves some separate fate, 

Whose darkness none beside should penetrate." 

Canto II. Stanz. 18, 

In the jiext stanza, also, he speaks of remembered 
scenes. In the 21st stanza the sex of Kaled is revealed. 
— In the 22d the reader is led to conclude that Kaled 
was Gulnare — though 

" ihat wild tale she brook'd not to unfold." 

Lara was finished on the S4th of June, 1814. He read 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 187 

it over to me, and while I was with him that day he 
made me a present of four proof prints taken from 
WestaU's picture of him. He also gave me the small 
engraving which was taken from the portrait painted by 
Phillips. These portraits combine all that depends upon 
the pencil to transmit of persopal resemblance, and all 
of mind that it can catch for posterity or the stranger. 
The effect of utterance, and the living grace of motion, 
must still be left to the imagination of those who have 
not had opportunities of observing them; but the power 
with which no pencil is endowed is displayed by the pen 
of Byron himself, and to this must these pictures be in- 
debted for the completion of their effect. I have seen 
him again and again in both the views given by the 
artists. That of Mr. Phillips is siniply the portrait of a 
gentleman — it is very like; but the sentiment which 
appears to me to predominate in it is haughtiness. If I 
judge aright, I am not the less of opinion, that there is 
no error attributable to the pencil by which the senti- 
ment was marked. I have seen Lord Byron assume it 
on some occasions, and I have no doubt that the feeling 
which produced it was a fluctuation from his natural, 
easy, flexible look, to one of intended dignity. Whether 
there be more of dignity or of haughtiness in the counte- 
nance, as there expressed, I mean not to contend — it strikes 
me as I have mentioned. But it is .WestaU's picture that I 
contemplate at times with calm delight, and at times with 
rapture. It is the picture of emanating genius, of Byron's 



J 38 RECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

genius — it needs not utterance, it possesses the living 
grace of thought, of intellect, of spirit, and is like a sun 
beaming its powerful rays to warm and vivify the imagi- 
nations and the hearts of mankind. From the free and 
unlimited egress he permitted me to his apartments, I 
saw him in every point .of view. I have been with him 
when he was composing. Some of the additional stanzas 
of Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, and many lines of the 
Corsair, and of Lara, were composed in my presence. 
At his chambers in the Albany, there was a long table 
covered with books standing before the fire-place: at the 
one end of it stood his own easy chair, and a small round 
table at his hand; at the other end of the table was 
another easy chair, on which I have sat for hours read- 
ing, or contemplating him; and I have seen him in the 
very position represented in Mr. Westall's picture. I 
have already said that he gave me four of the earliest 
impressions of the print taken from it. It brings him 
completely to my mind. I have been in the habit of 
contemplating it with great atfection, though sometimes 
mixed with a sorrow for those opinions on which I found 
it impossible to accord with him, and for those acts 
which incurred the disapprobation of the good and the 
wise; but never did I look upon it with such sorrow as 
on the day I heard that he was no more. 

I have httle to add^ Peace with France being con- 
cluded in the year 1814, I resolved on going to Paris, 
and thence to the South ; but as I did not immediately 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. |89 

leave England, and Lord Byron returning to town, I 
had an opportunity of seeing him again. I sat some 
time with him on the 4th of October, and then took 
my leave of him ; and here I think our intercourse may 
be said to terminate. While I was at Bordeaux, his 
marriage took place. Napoleon's successful entry into 
Paris hurried, me back to England; and on my arrival 
in London I saw both Lord and Lady Byron at their 
house in Piccadilly. 

I think that for some years I possessed more of his 
affection than those who, after the establishment of his 
fame, were proud to call him friend. This opinion is 
formed, not only from the recollected pleasure I enjoyed, 
but from his own opinions in conversation, long after he 
had entered the vortex of gaiety and flattery; and from 
what he read to me from a book in which he was in the 
habit of drawing, characters; — a book that was not to 
be published till the living generation had passed away. 
That book suggested to me these pages: nor did I keep 
my intention a secret from him. In the year 1819, 
I informed him that my posthumous volume was made 
up; and I said: — 

" I look into it occasionally with much pleasure, and 
I enjoy the thought of being in company with your spi- 
rit, when it is opened on earth towards the end of the 
nineteenth century, and of finding you pleased, even in 
the high 'sphere you may then, if you would but will it 



190 llECOLLHCTIONS OF THE 

now, occupy — which it is possible you might not be, 
were you to see it opened by the world in your present 
sphere. I do not know whether you are able to say as 
much for your book; for if you do live hereafter, and I 
have not the slightest, doubt but you will, I suspect that 
you will have company about you at the opening of it 
which may rather- afford occasion of remorse than of 
pleasure, however gracious and forgiving you may find 
immortal spirits. Of you I have written precisely as I 
think, and as I have found you; and though I have in- 
serted some things which I could not give to the present 
generation, the whole as it stands is a just portrait of 
you during the time you honoured me with your intima- 
cy and friendship, (for I drop the pencil where the cur- 
tain* dropped. between us,) and the picture is to me an 
engaging one." 

• 
If his affection, his confidence, nay I will boldly say 
his preference, on difiicult occasions, were but flattery 
or an illusion lasting for years, the remembrance of it is 
too agreeable to be parted with at the closing period of 
my life, especially as that remembrance is accompanied 
with a recollection of my anxiety, and of my efforts to 
exalt him as high in wisdom as nature and education 
had raised him on the standard of genius. But it was 
no illusion; and at the very moment of his quitting his 
country for ever, I received one more proof of his re- 
membrance and of his confidence. 1 had returned to 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. |9J 

the Continent. Whatever was the cause of the breach 
between him and his lady, it appears to have been irre- 
parable, and it attracted pubhc notice and animadversion. 
All the odium fell on him, and his old enemies were glad 
of another opportunity of assailing bim. Tale succeed- 
ed tale, and he was painted hideously in prose and verse, 
and tittle-tattle. Publicly and privately he was annoyed 
and goaded in such a manner, that he resolved to go 
abroad. On taking this- resolution, he sent a note to 
my son, who was then in London, requesting to see him. 
He immediately waited upon him. Lord Byron said to 
him, he was afraid that I thought he had slighted me; 
told him of his intention to go to Switzerland and Italy, 
and invited him to accompany him. This invitation 
doubly pleased me; it showed that I still possessed a 
place in his memory and regard; and I saw in it advan- 
tages for my son in travelling which he might not other- 
wise enjoy; but, upon reflection, I was not sor^ he did 
not avail himself of the opportunity, and that the propo- 
sal fell to the ground. 

Lord Byron left England in the year 1816, and I 
trace him personally no farther. I continued to read 
his new poems with great pleasure, as they appeared, 
till he published the two first cantos of Don Juan, which 
I read with a sorrow that admiration could not com- 
pensate. His muse, his British muse, had disdained 
licentiousness and the pruriency of petty wits; but 
with petty wits he had now begun to amalgamate his 

Mm 



j(J2 RECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

pure and lofty genius. Yet he did not long continue to 
alloy his golden ore with the filthy dross of impure 
metal: whatever errors he fell into, whatever sins lie at 
his door, he occasionally burst through his impurities, 
as he proceeded in t4iat wonderful and extraordinary 
medley, in which we at once feel the poet and see the 
man: no eulogy will reach his towering height in the 
former character; no eulogy dictated by friendship and 
merited for claims which truth can avow, will, I fear, 
cover the — I have no word, I will use none — that has 
been fastened upon him in the latter. The fact is, that 
he was like most men, a mixed character; and that, on 
either side, mediocrity was out of his nature. If his 
pen were sometimes virulent and impious, his heart was 
always benevolent, and his sentiments sometimes appa- 
rently pious. Nay, he would have been pious, — he 
would have been a christain, had he not fallen into the 
hands of atlieists and scoffers. 



There was something of a pride in him which car- 
ried him beyond the common sphere of thought and 
feeling. And the excess of this characteristic pride 
bore away, like a whirlwind, even the justest feelings 
of our nature; but it could not root them entirely from 
his heart. In vain did he defy his country and hold his 
countrymen in scorn; the choice he made of the motto 
for Childe Harold evinces that patriotism had taken 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 203 

root In his mind. The visions of an Utopia in his un- 
travelled fancy deprived reality of its charm; but when 
he awakened to the state of the world, what said he? 
" I have seen the most celebrated countries in the world, 
and have learned to prefer and to love my own/^ In 
vain too was he led into the defiance of the sacred writ- 
ings; there are passages in his letters and in his works 
which show that religion might have been in his soul. 
Could he cite the following lines and resist the force of 
them? It is true that He marks them for the beauty of 
the verse, but no less for the sublimity of the concep- 
tions; and I cannot but hope that had he lived he would 
have proved another instance of genius bowing to the 
power of truth: 

Dim as the borrow'd beams of moon and stars, 

To lonely, wandering, weary travellers, 

Is reason to the soul. — And as on high 

Those rolling fires discover but the sky, 

Not light us here; so reason's glimmering ray 

Was lent, not to assure our doubtful way, 

But guide us upward to a better day. 

And as those nightly tapers disappear, 

When day's bright lord ascends our hemisphere; 

So pale grows reason at religion's sight, 

So dies, — and so dissolves — in supernatural light. 

Dryden — quoted in the Liberal. 

When I planned this book, it was my intention to con- 
clude it with remarks on the genius and writings of Lord 



ig^ RECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

Byron. Alas! I have suffered time to make a progress 
unfriendly to the subject to which I had attached so 
great an interest. Had Providence vouchsafed me the 
happiness of recording of him, from my own knowledge, 
the renovation of his mind and character, which has 
been an unvaried object of my prayers, my delight would 
have supplied me with energy and with spirits to con- 
tinue my narrative and my observations. His genius 
and his writings have already been widely and multifa- 
riously examined and acknowledged, but they will no 
doubt be treated of in a concentrated manner by an 
abler pen than mine; and I therefore the more willingly 
relinquish this task. Of his course of life subsequent to 
his leaving England, I will not write upon hearsay. How- 
ever he may have spent some portion of the time, the 
last part of it cannot but redound to his honour and his 
. fame as a man ; and he seemed to me building in Greece 
a magnificent road for his return to his own country. 
Had he lived and succeeded, one single word of contri- 
tion would have wiped away all offences; and the hearts 
and the arms of his countrymen would have opened to 
receive him on his arrival. They would have drawn 
him in a triumphal car from the coast to the metropolis 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 195 



CHAPTER XIL 

CONCLUSION. 



This work had proceeded thus far, when it pleased God 
to stop the pen of the writer, and bid to cease the cur- 
rent of recollections which had set it in motion. Mr. 
Dallas had been attacked, in the month of July,* with 
an inflammatory fever, for which copious bleeding was 
necessary: he recovered indeed from the immediate dis- 
ease, but the debility occasioned by the remedy was too 
great for his constitution to- overcome, and he gradually 
sank under its effects. On the 21st of October, 1824, 
he expired. On his death-bed, and with a near view of 
eternity before him, which was brightened by the firm 
hope of its being passed in the presence of his reconcil- 
ed Maker, he confided to the writer of the following 
pages the task of closing these Recollections, and im- 
parted to him his feelings and opinions upon the matter 
which should compose this concluding chapter. 

* See Preliminary Statement, 



196 RECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

While executing this sacred commission, I intreat the 
reader to remember that it is not the same person who 
writes; and not only that the writer is different, but to 
call to mind that it is a son who takes up the mantle 
which a father has cast down in leaving this world. 
Whoever has perused the foregoing pages, cannot but 
feel that the author has borne a part in the circumstances 
which are related of so honourable a nature, that a son 
may be well authorised to speak in other terms than 
those which the person himself might use. And if, in 
any thing I may say, it should be thought that I have 
overstepped the reasonable licence which may be granted 
to the feelings of so near and dear a connexion, I trust 
that whatever may be counted as excess, will be pardoned 
in consideration of the fresh and powerful impulse which 
cannot but be given by the sense of so recent an event. 

The character of Lord Byron, as it stands depicted in 
the preceding pages, will appear in a different light from 
that in which the public have recently been led to re- 
gard it. Piquant anecdotes, and scandalous chronicles, 
may serve to amuse for a time the unthinking; but their 
real tendency is to pander to the worst feelings of our 
nature, by dragging into light the corruptions which dis- 
grace humanity. It is not difficult to form an estimate 
of what Lord Byron might have been, by attending to 
the causes which made him \^hat he was. 

To reason from hearsay, and form opinions upon the 
unauthenticated annals of common conversation, can 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 197 

never bring us to truth, nor give to our judgments suffi- 
cient certainty for practical purposes. It will therefore 
be useless to attempt to estimate Lord Byron's original 
character from the events commonly related of his early 
life; nor to take into consideration the defects of his 
education, and the misfortunes of his boyhood. We 
have no authorized data upon which to conduct such an 
inquiry. But the pages of this book do contain author- 
ized data. They contain opinions, and feelings, and 
facts, established by his own hand, although circum- 
stances withhold from the British public the original 
records. These data will show us what he was, immedi- 
ately before and immediately after the public develop- 
ment of his poetical powers had thrown him into a vortex 
which decided his character, whatever it might have 
been previously. 

There might have been some difficulty in finding so 
reasonable a ground-work upon which to form an opi- 
nion of what he had continued to be in his subsequent 
progress through life; and the fairest inference would 
have been that which his own later productions afford, 
had not a work been published purporting to be the 
record of Conversations held with Lord Byron at Pisa, 
in the years 1821 and 1822. This book appeared on 
the very day on which my father's remains were con- 
signed to the grave, and I cannot be too thankful that 
he was spared the pain which he would have felt in 
reading it. 



198 flECOLLECTlONS OF THE 

The perusal of this book rewards the reader, as he 
was rewarded who opened Pandora's box. It fills the 
mind with an unvaried train of miserable reflections; but 
there is one consolation at the end. As by a mathema- 
tical axiom the lesser is contained in the greater, so the 
comparatively smaller crime of falsehood is necessarily 
within the capabiHty of one so depraved as Lord Byron 
appears in this book; and by the same argument, the 
man whose mind could be in such a state as to suppose 
that he was doing " the world" and " the memory of 
Lord Byron" a service, by thus laying bare the degra- 
dation to which a master-mind was reduced, must surely 
be unable to restrain the tendency to exaggeration which 
would heighten the incredibility of what is already be- 
yond belief. This opinion concerning the reporter of 
Lord Byron's conversations is in some degree confirmed, 
by the simplicity which he displays in stating, that when 
Lord Byron was applied to for some authentic particu- 
lars of his life, his lordship asked the reporter himself, 
" Why he did not write some, as he believed that he 
knew more of him than any one else?" This was after 
three or four months' acquaintance!* 

* There are several things mentioned in this book of Conver- 
sations which prove, to say the least, that Lord Byron's memory 
was not correct, if what is reported of him be true. On one occa- 
sion his Lordship is stated to have said that his mother's death 
was one of the reasons of his return from Turkey, and this is re- 
peated more strongly in another place. His mother's death did 



LIFE OF LOUD BYRON. 199 

In rtiy own case, after reading the book to which I 
allude, this solitary consolation on account of Lord 
Byron was accompanied by a feeling of great satisfac- 
tion on account of my father; for, if its contents be 
not only the truth, but the whole truth. Lord Byr«i 
afforded the highest testimony of his respect for my 
father's character, which in his unhappy situation he 
could possibly give. In such company, and conversing 
upon such subjects, he forbore to mention his name, 
although referring to matters upon which, the reader 
will have seen, it would have been natural to have 
spoken of him. I am willing to attribute this silence 
to the circumstance that, in Lord Byron's mind, my 
father's name must have been connected with the re- 
membrance of all he had done, and said, and written, 
to turn him into the better path; and his Lordship could 
not have borne to recall that train of thought, after he 
had decidedly chosen the worse. That my father's 

not take place until several weeks after his arrival in London, and 
he had not the slightest expectation of it when it happened. Lord 
Byron is also stated to have said, that after an absence of three 
years, he returned to London, and that the second canto of Childe 
Harold was just then published. The fact is, that he was absent 
fwo years to a day, which he remarked himself in a very strong 
manner, returning in July, 1811, and that the first and second 
cantos of Childe Harold were published together eight months 
after, in March, 1812, in the manner related in these Recollec- 
tions. 

jjf n 



<;)00 ilKCOLLECTIONS OP THE 

earnest exertions had been applied to this end, will suffi- 
ciently appear from the foregoing part of this work; 
and, perhaps, I shall be pardoned for inserting here 
the body of a letter which he wrote to Lord Byron at 
a«niuch later period, to prove that he still retained that 
object in view. The letter is that alluded to in the last 
chapter, when, stating that he informed Lord Byron of 
his intention to leave a posthumous account of him, he 
extracted a short passage from it. The whole letter, 
which might not so well have been made public by the 
writer himself, cannot be considered as improperly pub- 
lished by the present Editor. 

It was dated the 10th of November, 1819, and after 
some introductory remarks upon the cessation of his 
correspondence with Lord Byron, it proceeds as fol- 
lows: — 

"I am almost out of life, and I shall speak to you 
with the freedom of a spirit already arrived beyond the 
grave: what I now write you may suppose addressed to 
you in a dream, or by my ghost, which 1 believe will 
be greatly inclined to haunt you, and render you even 
supernatural service. 

" I take it for granted, my Lord, that when you ex- 
cluded me from your friendship, you also banished me 
from your thoughts, and forgot the occurrences of our 
intimacy. I will, therefore, bring one circumstance to 
your recollection, as it is introductory to the subject of 



LIFK OF I.OUl) BYUON. 201 

this letter. One day when I cfiNcd Jipon you at your 
apartiiieiils in the Albany, you look up a book in which 
you had been writing, and having read a lew short 
passages, you said that you intended to lill it with the 
characters of those then around you, and with present 
anecdotes, to be published in the succeeding century, 
and not before; and you enjoyed, by anticipation, the 
elfect that would be produced on the hdh and sixth ge- 
nerations of those to whom you should give niches in 
your posthumous volume. I have often thought of this 
fancy of yours, and imagined the wits, the bellej^, and 
the beaux, the' dupes of our sex, and the artful and 
frail ones of the other, figuring at thebeginning of the 
twentieth century in the costume of the early part of 
the nineteenlii. I remember well that after one or two 
slight sketches you concluded with, 'This morning Mr. 
Dallas was here, S>lc. &.c.' You went on no larther, 
but the smile with which you shut your book gave me 
to understand that the colours you had used for my [)or- 
trait were not of a dismal hue, and I was inclined 
enough at the time 16 digest the llattery, as 1 was con- 
scious that 1 deserved your kindness, and believed that 
you felt so too. But, however that may be, whether 
the words were a ujere Haltering imj)romplu or not, 
whatever character you may have doomed me to figure 
in, a hundred years hence, you certainly have not done 
me justice in this age: it will not, therefore, appear ex- 
traordinary il I should not have depended altogether for 



202 RECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

my character on the smile with which you put your vo- 
lume down. 

" Lest you should suspect some inconsistency in this, 
and that although I began by assuring you that I did not 
mean to complain, my letter has been imagined for no 
other purpose; I will pause here, to declare to you 
solemnly that the affection I have felt for you, that the 
affection I do feel for you,, is the motive by which I am 
at present actuated; and that but for the desire I feel to 
be of some service to you, yo«i never would have heard 
from me again while I remained in this life. Were not 
this the case, this letter would deserve to be considered 
as an impertinence, and I would scorn to write it. I 
would give the world to retrieve you; to place you again 
upon that summit which you reached, I may say on 
which you alighted, in the spring of 181:2. It may be 
a more arduous attempt, but I see no impossibility; nay, 
to place you much higher than ever. You are yet but 
little beyond the dawn of life — it is downright affectation; 
it is, I was going to say, folly, to talk of grey hairs and 
age at twenty-nine. This is free language, my Lord, but 
not more than you formerly allowed me, and my increas- 
ed age, and nearer view of eternity confirm the privilege. 
As a Poet you have indeed wonderfully filled up the 
years you have attained — as a man you are in your in- 
fancy. Like a child you fall and dirt yourself, and your 
last fall has soiled you more than all the rest. I would 
to heaven you had not written your last unaccountable 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 203 

work,* and which, did it not here and there bear inter- 
nal incontestible evidence, I would suflfer no man to call 
yours. Forgive my warmth — I would rather consider 
you as. a child slipping into mire, that may be washed 
away, than as a man 

Stept in so far, that should he wade no more, 
Returning were as tedious as go o'er. 

Your absence, and the distance of your abode, leave 
your name at the mercy of every tatler and scribbler, 
who, even without being personal enemies, attack cha- 
racter for the mere pleasure of defamation, or for gain; 
and the life you are said to lead, and I grieve to say the 
work you have published, leave you no defenders. 
However you may stand with the world, I cannot but 
believe that at your age you may shake off all that clogs 
you in the career for which you were born. The very 
determination to resume it would be an irresistible claim 
to n^w attention from the world; and unshaken perse- 
verance would effect all that you could wish. Imagina- 
tion has had an ample range. No genius ever attained 
its meed so rapidly, or more completely; but manhood 
is the period for reality and action. Will you be content 
to throw it away for Italian skies and the reputation of 
eccentricity? May God grant me power to stir up in 
your mind the resolution of living the next twenty years 

* The first Cantos of Don Joan. 



204; RECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

in England, engaged in those pursuits to whicii Provi- 
dence seems more directly to call every man who by 
birth is entitled to take a share in the legislation of his 
country. But what do I say? I believe that I ought 
first to wish you to take a serious view of the subjects 
on which legislation turns. Much has been argued in 
favour of adopting and adhering to a party — I have never 
been convinced of this — but I am digressing. At all 
events, I beseech you to think of reinstating yourself in 
your own country. Preparatory to this, an idea has 
come into my mind, which it is time for me to state to 
you; to do which I must return to the seemingly queru- 
lous style from which I have digressed. Well then, my 
Lord, I did some time ago think of your treatment of 
me with pain; and reflection, without lessening my at- 
tachujent, showed me that you had acted towards me 
very ungenerously, and, indeed, very mijustly — you ought 
to have made more of me. I say this the more freely 
now because I have lived till it is become indifferent to 
me. It is true that I benefited not inconsiderably by 
some of your works; but it was not in the nature of mo- 
ney to satisfy or repay me. I felt the pecuniary benefit 
as I ought, and was not slow in acknowledging it as I 
ought. The six or seven hundred pounds paid by the 
purchaser of Childe Harold for the copyright was, in 
my mind, nothing in comparison with the honour that 
was due to me for discerning the genius that lay buried 
in the Pilgrimage, and ibr exciting you to the publica- 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 205 

tion of it, in spite of the damp which had been thrown 
upon it in the course of its composition, and in spite of 
your own reluctance and almost determination to sup- 
press it; nothing in comparison with the kindness that 
was due to me for the part I took in keeping back your 
Hints from Horace^ and the new edition of the Satire, 
till the moment I impressed conviction on your mind that 
your fame and the choice of your future career in life 
depended upon the suppression of these, and on the pub- 
lication of ChUde Harold. I made an effort to render 
you sensible that I was not dead to that better claim^ 
but it was unsuccessful; and though you continued your 
personal kindness whenever we met, you raised in my 
mind a jealousy which I was perhaps too proud, if not 
too mean-spirited, to betray. The result of the feeling, 
however, was, that I borrowed from you the hint of a 
posthumous volume, for after awhile I did not much care 
for the present, and I have indulged meditations on you 
and on myself for the amusement and judgment of future 
generations, but with this advantage over you, that I am 
convinced that I shall participate in whatever etfect they 
produce; and without this conviction I cannot conceive 
how the slightest value can be attached to posthumous 
fame. This is a topic on which I feel an inclination to 
dwell, but I will conquer the impulse, for my letter is 
already advanced beyond the limits I proposed. My 
Lord, my posthumous volume is made up — I look into 
it occasionally with much pleasure, and I enjoy the 



206 KECOLI^CTIONS OF THE 

thought of being, when it is opened, in the year 1900, 
in company with your spirit, and of finding you pleased, 
even in the high sphere you may, if you will, then oc- 
cupy, which it is possible you would not be, were you 
to see it now opened to the public in your present sphere. 
I do not know, my I^ord, whether you are able to say 
as much for your book, for if you do live hereafter, and 
I have not the slightest doubt but you will, I suspect that 
you will have company about you at the opening of it, 
which may rather afford occasion of remorse than of 
pleasure, however gracious and forgiving you may find 
immortal spirits. Of you I have written precisely as I 
think, and as I have found you; and though I have in- 
serted some things which I would not give to the present 
generation, the whole, as it stands, is a just portrait of 
you during the time I knew you; for I drop the pencil 
where you dropped the curtain between us, and the pic- 
ture is to me an engaging one. I contemplate it together 
with some parts of your works, and I cannot help break- 
ing forth into the exclamation of ' And is this man to be 
lost!' You, perhaps, echo, in a tone of displeasure, 
' Lost!' — Yes, lost. — Nay, unclench your hand — ^re- 
member it. is my ghost that is addressing you; not the 
being of flesh and blood whom you may dash from 
you at your will, as you have done. The man whose 
place is in the highest council of the first nation in the 
world, who possesses powers to delight and to serve his 
country, if he dissipates years between an Italian coun- 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. giQ^y 

try-house and opera-box, and murders his genius in 
attempts to rival a Rochester or a Cleiand, — for I will 
not, to flatter you, say a Boccacio or a La Fontaine, 
who wrote at periods when, and in countries where, 
indecency was wit — that man is lost. Gracious Hea- 
ven! on what lofty groimd you stood in the month of 
March, 1812! The world was before you, not as it was 
to Adam, driven in tears from Paradise to seek a place 
of rest, but presenting an elysium, to every part of 
which its crowded and various inhabitants vied in their 
welcome of you. ' Crowds of eminent persons,' says 
my posthumtms volume, 'courted an introduction, and 
some volunteered their cards. This was the trying mo- 
ment of virtue, and no wonder if that were shaken, for 
never was there so sudden a transition from neglect to 
courtship. Glory darted thick upon him from all sides; 
from the Prince Regent, and his admirable daughter, 
to the bookseller and his shopman ; from Walter Scott 

to ; from Jeffrey to the nameless critics of the 

Satinst and Scourge; he was the wonder of wits, and 
the show of fashion.' I will not pursue the reverse; 
but I must repeat, ' And is this man to be lost!' My 
head is full of you, and whether you allow me the me- 
rit or not, my heart tells me that I was chiefly instru- 
mental, by my conduct, in 1812, in saving you from 
perpetuating the enmity of the world, or rather in 
forcing you, against your will, into its admiration and 
love; and that I once afterwards considerably retarded 

e 



20S RECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

your rapid retrograde motion from the envied station 
which genius merits, but which even genius cannot 
preserve without prudence. These recollections have 
actuated me, it may be imprudently, to write you this 
letter, to endeavour to impel you to reflect seriously 
upon what you ought to be, and to beseech you to take 
steps to render your manhood solidly and lastingly glo- 
rious. Will you once more make use of me? I cannot 
beheve that there is an insurmountable bar to your re- 
turn to your proper station in life, — a station, which let 
me be bold enough to say, you have no right to quit. 
All that I have heard concerning you is but vague talk. 
The breach with Lady Byron was evidently the ground 
of your leaving England; and I presume the causes of 
that breach are what operate upon yo«ir spirit in keep- 
ing you abroad. In recollecting my principles, you 
will naturally imagine that the first thing that would oc- 
cur to my mind in preparing the way for your return, is 
an endeavour to close that breach — but 1 am not suffi- 
ciently acquainted with her to judge of the force of her 
opposition. At any rate, I would make the blame rest 
at her door, if reconciliation is not obtainable; I would 
be morally right; and this it is in your power to be, on 
whichever side the wrong at first lay, by a manly seve- 
rity to yourself, and by declaring your resolution to for- 
give, and to banish from your thought for ever all that 
could interrupt a cordial reconciliation. This step, 
should it not produce a desirable effect on the mind of 



LltE OF LORD BYRON. 209 

Lady Byron, would infallibly lead to the esteem of the 
world. Is it too much for me to hope that I might, by 
a letter to her, and by a public account of you, and of 
your intended pursuits in England, make such a gene- 
ral impression, as once more to fix the eyes of your 
country upon you with sentiments of new admiration 
and regard, and usher you again to a glory of a nature 
superior to all you ever enjoyed. It has, I own, again 
and again come into my mind, to model my intended 
posthiimous work for present publication, so as to have 
that effect; could I but prevail upon you to follow it up 
by a return to England, with a resolution to lead a phi- 
losophical life, and to turn the great powers of your 
mind to pursuits worthy of them; and, among those, to 
a candid search after that religious Truth which often, 
as imagination sobers, becomes more obvious to the or- 
dinary vision of Reason. Once more, my dear Lord 
Byron, forgive, or, rather, let me say, reward, my 
warmth, by listening again to the affection which 
prompts me to express my desire of serving you. I 
do not expect the glory of making a religious convert 
of you. I have still a hope that you will yourself have 
that glory if your life be spared to the usual length — 
but my present anxiety is to see you restored to you^ 
station in this world, after trials that should induce you 
to look seriously into futurity. ^^ 

Such was the affectionate interest with which the 



21Q RECOLLECTIONS OF TUE 

author of this letter continued to regard Lord Byron! 
Beit it was too late; he had hardened his heart, and 
bhmted his perception of the real vahie of such a friend. 
This was the last communication that ever took place 
between them, although an acccidental circumstance 
afforded the assurance that this letter had reached its 
destination. 

To return to the original character of Lord Byron, 
Whoever has read these pages attentively, or has seen 
the original documents from whence they are drawn, 
cannot fail to have perceived, that in his Lordship's early 
character there were the seeds of all the evil which has 
blossomed and borne fruit with such luxuriance in his 
later years. Nor will it be attempted here, to shew that 
in any part of J}is life he was without those seeds; but I 
think that a candid observer will also be ready to ac- 
knowledge, after reading this work, that there was an 
opposing principle of good acting in his mind, with a 
strength which produced opinions that were afterwards 
entirely altered. The coterie into which he unfortu- 
nately fell at Cambridge familiarized him with all the 
sceptical arguments of human pride. And his acquaint- 
ance with an unhappy atlieist — who was suddenly sum- 
moned before his outraged Maker, while bathing in the 
streams of the Cam, was rendered a severe trial by the 
brilliancy of the talent which he possessed, and which 
imparted a false splendour to the principles which he 
did not scruple to avow. Yet, when Lord Byron speaks 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 211 

of this man, as being an atheist, he considers it offensive; 
— when lie remarks on the work of Mr. Townsend, 
who had attempted in the sketch of an intended poem 
to give an idea of the hist judgment, he considered his 
idea as too daring; — in opening his heart to his mother, 
he shows that he believed that God knew, and did all 
things for the best; — after having seen mankind in many 
nations and characters, he unrestrainedly conveys his 
opinion, that human nature is every where corrupt and 
despicable. These points are the more valuable, be- 
cause they flowed naturally and undesignedly from the 
heart; while, on the contrary, his sceptical opinions 
were expressed only when the subject was before him, 
and as it were by way of apology. 

When, in this period of his life, there is any thing 
like argument on this subject, advanced by him in his 
correspondence, it is miserably weak and confused. 
The death of his atheistical friend bewildered him: he 
thought there was the stamp of imiiiortality in all this 
person said and did — that he seemed a man created 
to display what the Creator could make — and yet, 
such as he was, he had been gathered into corruption, 
before the maturity of a mind that might have been the 
pride of posterity. And this bewildered him! If his 
opinion of his friend were a just one, ought not this rea- 
soning rather to have produced the conviction, that such 
a mind could not be gathered into the corruption which 
awaited the perishable body.'^ Accordingly Lord Byron's 



212 RECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

inference did not lead him to produce this death as a 
support to the doctrine of annihilation; but his mind 
being tinctured previously with that doctrine, he con- 
fesses that it bewildered him. 

When about to publish Cliilde Harold's Pilgrimage, 
containing sceptical opinions, the decided expression of 
which he was then induced to withdraw, he wrote a note 
to accompany them, which has been inserted in this 
work. Its main object is to declare, that his was not 
sneering, but desponding scepticism — and he grounds 
his opinions upon the most unlogical deduction that 
could be formed: that, because he had found many peo- 
ple abuse and disgrace the religion they professed, that 
therefore religion was not true. This is like saying, 
that because a gamester squanders his guineas for his 
own destruction, they are therefore not gold, nor appli- 
cable for good purposes. Weak as this was, he called 
it an apology for his scepticism. 

It cannot be said, that up to this period, Lord Byron 
was decidedly an unbeliever; but, on the contrary, I 
think it may be said, that there was a capability in his 
mind for the reception of Divine Truth, — that he had 
not closed his eyes to the light which therefore forced 
its way in with sufficient power to maintain some con- 
test with the darkness of intellectual pride; and this opi- 
nion is strengthened, by observing the effects of that hn- 
gering light, in the colouring which it gave to vice and 
virtue in his mind. His conduct had been immoral and 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 213 

dissipated; but he knew it to be sucli, and acknowledged 
it in its true colours. He regretted the indulgence of 
his passions as producing criminal acts, and bringing 
him under their government. He expressed these feel- 
ings: — he did more, he strove against them. He scru^ 
pled not publicly to declare his detestation of the immo- 
rality which renders the pages of Mr. Moore inadmissible 
into decent society; and he severely satirizes the luxu- 
rious excitements to vice which abound in our theatrical 
importation of Italian manners.* When a circumstance 
occured in which one of his tenants had given way to 
his passions, Lord Byron's opinion and decision upon 
the subject were strongly expressed, and his remarks 
upon that occasion are particularly worthy of notice. 
He thought our first duty was not to do evil, though he 
felt that was impossible. The next duty was to repair 
the evil we have done, if in our power. He would not 
afford his tenants a privilege he did not allow himself — 
He knew he had been guilty of many excesses, but had 
laid down a resolution to reform, and latterly kept it. 

I mention these circumstances to call to the reader's 
mind the general tenor of Lord Byron's estimate of mo- 
ral conduct, as it appears in the present work; because 

* Then let Ausonia, skilled in every art 
To soften manners, but corrupt the heart. 
Pour her exotic follies o'er the town, 
To sanction vice, and hunt decorum down. 

English Bards. 



214. • RECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

I think it may be said that he had a lively perception of 
what was right, and a strong desire to follow it; but he 
wanted the regulating influence of an acknowledged' 
standard of sufficient purity, and, at the same time, es- 
tablished by sufficient authority in his mind. The pa- 
tience of God not only otfered him such a standard in 
religion, but kept his heart in a state of capability for re- 
ceiving it. In spite of his many grievings of God's spi- 
rit, still, it would not absolutely desert him as long as he 
allowed a struggle to continue in his heart. 

But the publication of Childe Harold was followed by 
consequences which seemed to have closed his heart 
against the long-tarrying spirit of God, and at once to 
have ended all struggle. Never was there a more sud- 
den transition from the doubtings of a mind to which 
Divine light was yet accessible, to the unhesitating 
abandonment to the blindness of vice. Lord Byron's 
vanity became the ruling passion of his mind. He made 
himself his own god; and no eastern idol ever received 
more abject or degrading worship from a bigotted votary. 

The circumstances which have been detailed in this 
work respecting the pilblication of Childe Harold, prove 
sufficiently how decided and how lamentable a turn they 
gave to a character, which, though wavering and incon- 
sistent for want of the guide I have referred to, had not 
yet passed all the avenues which might take him from 
the broad way that leadeth to destruction, into the nar- 
row path of life. But Lord Byron's unresisting surren- 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. 215 

der to the first temptation of intrigue, from which all 
its accompanying horrors could not affright him, seems 
to have banished for ever from his heart the Divine in- 
fluence which could alone defend him against the strength 
of his passions and the weakness of his nature to resist 
them; and it is truly astonishing to find the very great 
rapidity with which he was involved in all the trammels 
of fashionable vice. 

With proportionable celerity his opinions of moral 
conduct were changed; his power of estimating virtue at 
any thing like its true value ceased; and his mind became 
spiritually darkened to a degree as great perhaps as has 
ever been known to take place from the results of one 
step. Witness the course of his life at this time, as de- 
tailed in the Conversations lately published, to which I 
have before alluded. Witness the fact of his being 
capable ofdetaihng such a course of life in familiar con- 
versation to one almost a stranger. 

What must have been the change in that man who 
could at one time write these lines, — 

Grieved to condemn, the muse must still be just, 

Nor spare melodious advocates of lust; 

Pure is the flame that o'er her altar burns, 

From grosser incense with disgust she turns ; 

Yet kind to youth, this expiation o'er. 

She bids thee mend thy line, and sin no more— 

and at another become the author of Don Juan, where 

pp 



2 1 (5 lUiCOLLECTIONS OF THE 

grosser, more licentious, more degrading images are pro- 
duced, than could have been expected to have found 
their way into any mind desirous merely of preserving a 
decent character in society, — than could have been look- 
ed for from any tongue not habituated to the conversa- 
tion of the most abandoned of the lowest order of society? 
What must have 'been the change in him who, from 
animadverting severely upon the licentiousness of a vil- 
lage intrigue, could glory in the complication of crimes 
which give zest to fashionable adultery, and even in the 
excess of his glorying could forego his title to be called 
a man of honour or a gentlanan, for which the merest 
coxcomb of the world will commonly restrain himself 
within some bounds after he has overstepped the nar- 
rower limits of religious restraint ! For who can venture 
to call Lord Byron either one or the other after reading 
the unrestrained disclosures he is said, in his published 
Conversations, to have made, " without any injunctions 
to secrecy." Who cou'd have imagined that the same 
man who had observed upon the otfensiveness of the 
expression of another's irreligious principles, should ever 
be capable of otiendingthc world with such awfully tear- 
less impiety as is contained in the latter Cantos of Don 
Jiian, and boldly advanced in Cain? Who can read, in 
his own hand writing, the opinion that a sublime and well 
intentioned anticipation of the Last Judgment is too 
daring, and puts him in mind of the line — 



LIFE OF LOUD BYllON. 217 

••* And fools rush in where Angels fear to tread." 

and conceive that the same hand wrote his Vision of 
Judgment? 

Yet such a change did take place, as any one may 
be convinced of, who will take the trouble to read the 
present work, and the Conversations to which I have 
alluded, and compare them together. For, let it be ob- 
served, that the few pages in the latter publication which 
refer to Lord 15yron's religious opinions, state only his 
old weak reasoning, founded upon the disunion of pro- 
fessing christians, some faint, and, I may say, childish 
wishes; and a disowning of the principles of Mr. Shel- 
ley's school. So also that solitary'reference to a pre- 
paration for death, when death stood visibly by his bed- 
side ready to receive 'hinr, which is related by his 
servant,* and upon, which I have known a charitable 
hope to be hung, amounts to just as much — an assertion. 
It can only be the most puerile ignorance of the nature 
of religion, which can receive assertion for proof in such 
a matter. The very essence of real religion is to let 
itself be seen in the life, when it is really sown in the 
heart ; and a man who appeals to his assertions to estab- 
hsh his religious character, may be his own dupe, but 
can never dupe any but such as are like him — just as 
the lunatic in Bedlam may call himself a king, and be- 

* Lord Byron is staled to have said to his servant—" I am not 
afraid of dying — I am more fit to die than people think." 



2\S KECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

lieve it: but it is only those who are mad as himself 
who will think themselves his subjects. There is no 
possibility of hermetically sealing up religion in the 
heart; if it be there it cannot be contined, — it must ex- 
tend its inllucncc over (he principle of thought, of word, 
and of action. 

When we see wonderful and rapid changes take place 
in the pliysical world, wc naturally seek for the cause; 
and it cannot but be useful to trace the cause of so visi- 
ble a change in the moral world, as that which appears 
upon the comparison l have pointed out. It will not, I 
tliink, be too much to say, tiiat it took place im?iiediately 
that the resistance against evil ceased in Lord Byron's 
mind. Temptation certainly came upon him in an over- 
powering manner; and the very first ten)ptation was per- 
haps the worst, yet he yielded to it almost immediately. 
I refer to the circumstance recorded in these pages, 
which took place little more than a week after the first 
appearance of Childo Harold's Pilgrimage, when he re- 
ceived an extraordinary anonymous letter, which led im- 
mediately to the most disgraceful liaison of which he 
has not scrupled to boast. There was something so 
disgusting in the forwardness of the person who wrote, 
as well as deterring in the enormity of the criminal ex- 
cesses of which this letter was the beginning, that he 
should have been roused against such a temptation at 
the (irst glance. But the sudden gust of public ap- 
plause had just blown upon bin), and having raised him 



LIFE OF LORD BYRON. gjg 

in its whirlwind above the earth, he had already began 
to deify himself in his own imagination; and this in- 
cense came to him as the first oliered upon his altar. 
He was intoxicated with its fumes; and closing his mind 
against the light that had so long crept in at crevices, 
and endeavoured to shine through every transparent 
part, he called darkness light, and the bitter sweet, and 
said Peace when there was no Peace. 

As long as Lord Byron continued to resist his temp- 
tations to evil, and to refrain from exposing publicly his 
tendency to infidelity, so long he valued the friendship of 
the author of the foregoing chapters, who failed not to 
seize every opportunity of supporting the struggle within 
him, in the earnest hope that the good might ultimately 
be successful. The contents of this book may give some 
idea of the nature and constancy of that friendship, and 
cannot fail of being highly honourable to its author, as 
well as of reflecting credit on Lord Byron, who, on so 
many occasions, gave way to its influence. But it is a 
strong proof of the short-sightedness of man's judg- 
ment, that upon the most remarkable occasion on which 
this influence was excited, by inducing him to publish 
Chiide Harold instead of the Hints from Horace, though 
the best intentions guided the opinion, it was made the 
step by which Lord Byron was lost; and he who, in a 
literary point of view, had justly prided himself upon 
having withheld so extraordinary a mind from encum- 
bering its future efforts with the dead weight of a work 



220 RECOLLECTIONS OF THE 

which might have ahogether prevented its subsequent 
buoyancy, and who was ahve to the glory of having 
discerned the neglected merit of the real poem, and of" 
having spread out the wings which took such an eagle 
flight — having lived to see the rebellious presumption 
which that towering flight occasioned, and to anticipate 
the destruction that must follow the audacity, died deeply 
regretting that he had, even though unconsciously, ever 
borne such a part in producing so lamentable a loss. 
One of the last charges which he gave me upon his 
death-bed, but a few days before he died, and with the 
full anticipation of his end, was, not to let this work go 
forth into the world without stating his sincere feeling of 
sorrow that ever he had been instrumental in bringing 
forward Cliilde Harold'^s Pilgrimage io the \mb\'\c, since 
the publication of it had produced such disastrous effects 
to one whom he had loved so affectionately, and from 
whom he had hoped so much good — effects which the 
literary satisfaction the poem may afford to all the men 
of taste in the present and future generations, can 
never, in the slightest degree, compensate. 

In obeying this solemn charge I should have conclud- 
ed these remarks, had I not found, in looking over the 
manuscript of the work upon this subject, which was 
first intended to have been left to posterity as a posthu- 
mous offering, and which was written about the year 
1819, a passage which appears to me to form a fitter 



LIFE OF LOUD BYRON. 22\ 

conclusion to this Chapter, and which, therefore, I copy 
from the author's writing: — 

" I have suffered Time to make a progress unfriendly 
to the subject to which I had attached so great an inter- 
est. Had Providence vouchsafed me the happiness of 
recording of Lord Byron, from my own knowledge, the 
renovation of his mind and character, which was the 
object of my last letter to him, my delight would have 
supplied me with energy and spirits to continue my nar- 
rative, and my observations. Of his course of life sub- 
sequent I will not write upon hearsay; but I cannot re- 
frain from expressing my grief, disappointment, and 
wonder, at the direction which was given to it by the 
impulse of his brilliant success as a Poet. It seemed 
not only to confirm him in his infidelity, but to set him 
loose from social ties, and render him indifferent to 
every other praise than that of poetical genius. I am 
not singular in the cooling of his friendship, if it be not 
derogatory to call by that name any transient feeling 
he may have expressed; and his intended posthumous 
volume will, probably, shew this, if he has not, in con- 
sequence of what I said to him in my last letter, altered 
or abandoned it. In the dedications of his poems there 
is no sincerity; he had neither respect nor regard for 
the persons to whom they are addressed; and Lord 
Holland, Rogers, Davies, and Hobhouse, if earthly 
knowledge becomes intuitive on retrospection, will see 



222 RECOLLECTIONS, &c. C'f 

on what grounds I say this, and nod the recognitioDj 
and I trust forgiveness of heavenly spirits, if heavenly 
their's become, to the wondering Poet with whose works 
their names are swimming down the stream of Time, 
He and they shall have my nod too on the occasion, if, 
let me humbly add, my prayers shall have availed me 
beyond the grave." 



THE END. 



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